“How stupid of us!” he whispered. “We shall soon have seen the end of those men with their lanterns. It is the firemen going their rounds.”
The two men waited five minutes longer. Then the Persian took Raoul up the stairs again; but suddenly he stopped him with a gesture. Something moved in the darkness before them.
“Flat on your stomach!” whispered the Persian.
The two men lay flat on the floor.
They were only just in time.
A shade, this time carrying no light, just a shade in the shade, passed. It passed close to them, near enough to touch them.
They felt the warmth of its cloak upon them. For they could distinguish the shade sufficiently to see that it wore a cloak which shrouded it from head to foot. On its head it had a soft felt hat. …
It moved away, drawing its feet against the walls and sometimes giving a kick into a corner.
“Whew!” said the Persian. “We’ve had a narrow escape; that shade knows me and has twice taken me to the managers’ office.”
“Is it someone belonging to the theater police?” asked Raoul.
“It’s someone much worse than that!” replied the Persian, without giving any further explanation.
“It’s not … he ?”
“ He? … If he does not come behind us, we shall always see his yellow eyes! … That is more or less our safeguard tonight. … But he may come from behind, stealing up; and we are dead men if we do not keep our hands as though about to fire, at the level of our eyes, in front!”