As he did it he avoided glancing at the sleeper , but not lest pity should unnerve him ; merely to avoid spilling . Then one long gloating look he cast upon his victim , and turning , wormed his way with difficulty up the tree . As he emerged at the top he looked the very spirit of evil breaking from its hole . Donning his hat at its most rakish angle , he wound his cloak around him , holding one end in front as if to conceal his person from the night , of which it was the blackest part , and muttering strangely to himself stole away through the trees . Peter slept on . The light guttered and went out , leaving the tenement in darkness ; but still he slept . It must have been not less than ten o'clock by the crocodile , when he suddenly sat up in his bed , wakened by he knew not what . It was a soft cautious tapping on the door of his tree . Soft and cautious , but in that stillness it was sinister . Peter felt for his dagger till his hand gripped it . Then he spoke . ` Who is that ? ' For long there was no answer : then again the knock . ` Who are you ? ' No answer . He was thrilled , and he loved being thrilled . In two strides he reached his door . Unlike Slightly 's door it filled the aperture , so that he could not see beyond it , nor could the one knocking see him . ' I wo n't open unless you speak , ' Peter cried . Then at last the visitor spoke , in a lovely bell-like voice .
` Let me in , XXXXX . '
Peter answer cloak crocodile dagger night o'clock sleeper victim visitor