He held in his hand what appeared to be a steel instrument, shaped
something like a long hammer. This he held rather behind him, while,
with three long, _tip-toe_ strides, he brought himself to the bedside.
I felt that the discovery must now be made, and held my breath in
momentary expectation of the execration in which he would vent his
surprise and disappointment. I closed my eyes; there was a pause, but
it was a short one. I heard two dull blows, given in rapid succession;
a quivering sigh, and the long-drawn, heavy breathing of the sleeper
was for ever suspended. I unclosed my eyes, and saw the murderer fling
the quilt across the head of his victim; he then, with the instrument
of death still in his hand, proceeded to the lobby-door, upon which
he tapped sharply twice or thrice. A quick step was then heard
approaching, and a voice whispered something from without. Edward
answered, with a kind of shuddering chuckle, "Her ladyship is past
complaining; unlock the door, in the devil's name, unless you're
afraid to come in, and help me to lift her out of the window." The
key was turned in the lock, the door opened, and my uncle entered the
room. I have told you already that I had placed myself under the shade
of a projection of the wall, close to the door. I had instinctively
shrunk down cowering towards the ground on the entrance of Edward
through the window.
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