Raffles was further deterred by a ball in full swing at the Empress
Rooms, whence potential witnesses were pouring between dances into
the cool deserted street. Instead he led me a little way up Church
Street, and so through the narrow passage into Palace Gardens. He
knew the house as well as I did. We made our first survey from the
other side of the road. And the house was not quite in darkness;
there was a dim light over the door, a brighter one in the stables,
which stood still farther back from the road.

"That's a bit of a bore," said Raffles. "The ladies have been out
somewhere - trust them to spoil the show! They would get to bed
before the stable folk, but insomnia is the curse of their sex and
our profession. Somebody's not home yet; that will be the son of
the house; but he's a beauty, who may not come home at all."

"Another Alick Carruthers," I murmured, recalling the one I liked
least of all the household, as I remembered it.

"They might be brothers," rejoined Raffles, who knew all the loose
fish about town. "Well, I'm not sure that I shall want you after
all, Bunny."

"Why not?"

"If the front door's only on the latch, and you're right about the
lock, I shall walk in as though I were the son of the house myself."

And he jingled the skeleton bunch that he carried on a chain as
honest men carry their latchkeys.