By keeping his eyes close to the wooden panelling he
could advance without seeing into the corridor. He was within a
foot of the opening. Convulsed with fear, he put out his hand
quickly and tried to pull the heavy oak on its hinges by the
projecting bevel, but it was too heavy--he must look out in order
to grasp the handle. The cold drops trickled down from his brow
and he breathed hard, but he could not go back and leave the door
unclosed. With a suppressed sob of agony he thrust out his head
and arm. In a moment it was over, but the moral effort had been
terrible, and his strength failed him, so that he staggered
against the wainscot and would have fallen but for its support.
Some moments elapsed before he could get to a chair, and when he
at last sat down in a ray of sunshine to rest, his eyes remained
fixed upon the sculptured brass handle of the latch. He almost
expected that it would turn mysteriously of itself and that the
dead prince would enter the room. He realised that in his present
condition he could not possibly face the person who before long
would certainly bring him the news. He must have something to
stimulate him and deaden his nerves. He had no idea how long a
time had elapsed since he had done the deed, but it seemed that
three or four hours must certainly have passed.
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