I heard the footsteps as I lay in bed, in the half-awake-half-asleep state that often brings ideas and strange fancies. Opening the drawer beside my bed, I lifted my pistol. Knowing it was already loaded, I c****d both hammers and slid out of bed.
Footsteps in the house meant one of two things: either Walter or Amanda was wandering around at night, or there was an intruder. I wished neither, so stealthily opened the door and slipped outside my bedroom. The house was in darkness, with only the fading embers of the sitting room fire providing a modicum of light as I padded from room to room, pistol ready to blast any impudent intruder. YORLING
I saw the shadow as I entered the drawing-room. It was a glimpse, nothing more, and I whirled around, pointing my pistol. There was nothing there, o
