Lyceum, which Raffles would not allow me to use myself, and presented to him off-hand without my leave.

“And don’t you bother any more about me till tomorrow,” snapped the high thin voice as he was off. “I can send for you now when I want you, and I’m hoping to have a decent night for once.”

It was half-past ten when we left the flat, in an interval of silence on the noisy stairs. The silence was unbroken by our wary feet. Yet for me a surprise was in store upon the very landing. Instead of going downstairs, Raffles led me up two flights, and so out upon a perfectly flat roof.

“There are two entrances to these mansions,” he explained between stars and chimney-stacks: “one to our staircase, and another round the corner. But there’s only one porter, and he lives on the basement underneath us, and affects the door nearest home. We miss him by using the wrong stairs, and we run less risk of old Theobald. I got the tip from the postmen, who come up one way and down the other. Now, follow me, and look out!”

There was indeed some necessity for caution, for each half of the building had its L-shaped well dropping sheer to the base, the parapets so low that one might easily have tripped over them into eternity. However, we were soon upon the second staircase, which opened on the roof like the first. And twenty minutes of the next twenty-five we spent in an admirable hansom, skimming east.

“Not much change in the old hole, Bunny. More of these magic-lantern advertisements ... and absolutely the worst bit of taste in town, though it’s saying something, in that equestrian statue with the gilt stirrups and fixings; why don’t they black the buffer’s boots and his horse’s hoofs while they are about it? ... More bicyclists, of course. That was just beginning, if you remember. It might have been useful to us.... And there’s the old club, getting put into a crate for the Jubilee; by Jove, Bunny, we ought to be there. I wouldn’t lean forward in Piccadilly, old chap. If you’re seen I’m thought of, and we shall have to be jolly careful at Kellner’s.... Ah, there it is! Did I tell you I was a low-down stage Yankee at Kellner’s? You’d better be another, while the waiter’s in the room.”

We had the little room upstairs; and on the very threshold I, even I, who knew my Raffles of old, was taken horribly aback. The table was laid for three. I called his attention to it in a whisper.

“Why, yep!” came through his nose. “Say, boy, the lady, she’s not comin’, but you leave that 

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