ay between the wall and the house.

Dickie's heart was beating very fast. Quite soon, now, his part in the
adventure would begin.

"'Ere--catch 'old," Mr. Beale was saying, and the red-whiskered man took
Dickie in his arms, and went forward. The other two crouched in the
wood.

Dickie felt himself lifted, and caught at the window-sill with his
hands. It was a damp night and smelled of earth and dead leaves. The
window-sill was of stone, very cold. Dickie knew exactly what to do. Mr.
Beale had explained it over and over again all day. He settled himself
on the broad window-ledge and held on to the iron window-bars while the
red-whiskered man took out a pane of glass, with treacle and a
handkerchief, so that there should be no noise of breaking or falling
glass. Then Dickie put his hand through and unfastened the window, which
opened like a cupboard door. Then he put his feet through the narrow
space between two bars and slid through. He hung inside with his hands
holding the bars, till his foot found the table that he had been told to
expect just below, and he got from that to the floor.

"Now I must remember exactly which way to go," he told himself. But he
did not need to remember what he had been told. For quite certainly, and
most oddly, he _knew_ exactly where the door was, and when he had crept
to it and got it open he found that he now knew quite well which way to
turn and what passages to go along to get to that little side-door that
he was to open for the three men. It was exactly as though he had been
there before, in a dream. He went as quietly as a mouse, creeping on
hands and knee, the lame foot dragging quietly behind him.

I will not pretend that he was not frightened. He was, very. But he was
more brave than he was frightened, which is the essence of bravery,
after all. He found it difficult to breathe quietly, and his heart beat
so loudly that he felt almost sure that if any people were awake in the
house they would hear it, even up-stairs in their beds. But he got to
the little side-door, and feeling with sensitive, quick fingers found
the well-oiled bolt, and shot it back. Then the chain--holding the loose
loop of it in his hand so that it should not rattle, he slipped its ball
from the socket. Only the turning of the key remained, and Dickie
accomplished that with both hands, for it was a big key, kneeling on his
one sound knee. Then very gently he turned the handle, and pulled--and
the door open