emergency exit by opening first the shutters and then the window
itself. Luckily it was a still night, and very little wind came
in to embarrass us. He then began operations on the safe, revealed
by me behind its folding screen of books, while I stood sentry on
the threshold. I may have stood there for a dozen minutes,
listening to the loud hall clock and to the gentle dentistry of
Raffles in the mouth of the safe behind me, when a third sound
thrilled my every nerve. It was the equally cautious opening of a
door in the gallery overhead.

I moistened my lips to whisper a word of warning to Raffles. But
his ears had been as quick as mine, and something longer. His
lantern darkened as I turned my head; next moment I felt his breath
upon the back of my neck. It was now too late even for a whisper,
and quite out of the question to close the mutilated door. There
we could only stand, I on the threshold, Raffles at my elbow, while
one carrying a candle crept down the stairs.

The study-door was at right angles to the lowest flight, and just
to the right of one alighting in the hall. It was thus impossible
for us to see who it was until the person was close abreast of us;
but by the rustle of the gown we knew that it was one of the ladies,
and dressed just as she had come from theatre or ball. Insensibly
I drew back as the candle swam into our field of vision: it had not
traversed many inches when a hand was clapped firmly but silently
across my mouth.

I could forgive Raffles for that, at any rate! In another breath
I should have cried aloud: for the girl with the candle, the girl
in her ball-dress, at dead of night, the girl with the letter for