Upon this Harry retreated, taking his boots and the extinguished torch, and went back again. He succeeded in regaining his own room without making any noise, and by that time he had decided on what he ought to do. He decided to stand in the fireplace, on the opposite side. The woman would come down the stepping-stones and steal into the room: he would Watch her and find out what she wanted. Then he would act according to the issue of events; and at any rate he could intercept her on her return, and make her give an account of herself. Having come to this conclusion, Harry stood there in the chimney, waiting most patiently for what seemed a very long time. He suspected that the woman might still be hesitating, but determined to wait until she should make her appearance. At length he heard a noise, which seemed to come from the passage above. It was a soft, dull, scraping, sliding noise of a very peculiar kind, the cause and the nature of which he could not conjecture. The sound came, and then stopped, and came again, and again stopped, for three or four times. Harry listened and waited. At last the sound ceased altogether, and there was the same stillness as before. Harry now waited for so long a time that his patience was quite exhausted, and he resolved, come what might, to go up again to the end of the passage and wait there. He knew the way now well enough. He left his torch and boots behind, and, climbing up, went along the passage, half expecting to encounter the woman, and ready to seize her and question her. But he found no one. All was still. He reached the chimney of the other room, and then, as before, he looked down. He saw the moonbeams lying on the floor; he heard the slow, low, regular breathing of sleepers, one of whom seemed still to be in that troubled dream. Familiarity with these surroundings had now made him bold. Should he venture now, or wait longer? Wait! Why wait? When could he hope to have a better time than the present? But one of the women was no doubt awake--that one who had already visited him. What of that? He cared not; he could not wait. Perhaps she was a friend--it seemed like it. At any rate he was resolved to risk it. To go back was not to be thought of. All his nerves were so wrought up, and to such an intense pitch of excitement, that sleep was impossible and any longer waiting intolerable. He determined to risk all now. And for what? For the chance, not of escape, but of communicating with Katie. The fact is, as any one may see, Harry was getting in a very bad way about Katie. Else why should he make such a point about seeing her, and run such a risk, and make even the chance of his personal safety a secondary consideration? And what for? What did Katie care for him? What indeed?