His outlook was necessarily limited. The minute apertures between
the stitches of the fabric of the valance admitted a certain amount
of light, but permitted no peeping. The shadows upon this curtain,
save for those sharply defined legs, were enigmatical, and intermingled
confusingly with the florid patterning of the chintz. Beneath the edge
of the valance a strip of carpet was visible, and, by cautiously
depressing his eye, Mr. Ledbetter found that this strip broadened
until the whole area of the floor came into view. The carpet was
a luxurious one, the room spacious, and, to judge by the castors
and so forth of the furniture, well equipped.

What he should do he found it difficult to imagine. To wait until
this person had gone to bed, and then, when he seemed to be sleeping,
to creep to the door, unlock it, and bolt headlong for that balcony
seemed the only possible thing to do. Would it be possible to jump
from the balcony? The danger of it! When he thought of the chances
against him, Mr. Ledbetter despaired. He was within an ace of thrusting
forth his head beside the gentleman's legs, coughing if necessary
to attract his attention, and then, smiling, apologising and explaining
his unfortunate intrusion by a few well-chosen sentences. But he
found these sentences hard to choose. "No doubt, sir, my appearance
is peculiar," or, "I trust, sir, you will pardon my somewhat ambiguous
appearance from beneath you," was about as much as he could get.

Grave possibilities forced themselves on his attention. Suppose
they did not believe him, what would they do to him? Would his
unblemished high character count for nothing? Technically he was
a burglar, beyond dispute. Following out this train of thought,
he was composing a lucid apology for "this technical crime I have