ace. The one was unwound, and the other put
together, in a secluded corner of the red-brick walls, where of old I
had played my own game of squash-rackets in the holidays. I made
further investigations in the starlight, and even found a trace of my
original white line along the red wall.

But it was not until we had effected our entry through the room which
had been my very own, and made our parlous way across the lighted
landing, to the best bedroom of those days and these, that I really
felt myself a worm. Twin brass bedsteads occupied the site of the old
four-poster from which I had first beheld the light. The doors were
the same; my childish hands had grasped these very handles. And there
was Raffles securing the landing door with wedge and gimlet, the very
second after softly closing it behind us.

"The other leads into the dressing-room, of course? Then you might be
fixing the outer dressing-room door," he whispered at his work, "but
not the middle one Bunny, unless you want to. The stuff will be in
there, you see, if it isn't in here."

My door was done in a moment, being fitted with a powerful bolt; but
now an aching conscience made me busier than I need have been. I had
raised the rope-ladder after us into my own old room, and while Raffles
wedged his door I lowered the ladder from one of the best bedroom
windows, in order to prepare that way of escape which was a fundamental
feature of his own strategy. I meant to show Raffles that I had not
followed in his train for nothing. But I left it to him to unearth the
jewels. I had begun by turning up the gas; there appeared to be no
possible risk in that; and Raffles went to work with a will in the
excellent light. There were some good pieces in the room, including an
ancient tallboy in fruity mahogany, every drawer of which was turned
out on the bed without avail. A few of the drawers had locks to pick,
yet not one triffle to our taste within. The situation became serious
as the minutes flew. We had left the party at its sweets; the solitary
lady might be free to roam her house at any minute. In the end we
turned our attention to the dressing-room. And no sooner did Raffles
behold the bolted door than up went his hands.

"A bathroom bolt," he cried below his breath, "and no bath in the room!
Why didn't you tell me, Bunny? A bolt like that speaks volumes;
there's none on the bedroom door, remember, and this one's worthy of a
strong room! What i