He alighted with comparative safety.
Sliding down the roof, he gained the gutter which ran round the house. Then he stooped down and hid himself behind the low wall in front of the gutter.
By this time the policemen and the night watchman were on the leads of the warehouse. He knew this, for he heard their voices distinctly in the night air.
“He’s stepped it,” said the watchman. “He’s given us the slip after all our trouble, the audacious scoundrel.”
Peace heard these observations, and remained as quiet as possible in his place of concealment.
“He’s made off over the roofs of those houses,” said one of the police officers.
“Impossible!” exclaimed the watchman. “No mortal man could reach them from where we are standing. Oh, no—impossible!”
“You don’t know what these fellows can do,” returned the constable. “They’re like cats—they’ve got nine lives.”
The speaker flashed his bull’s-eye in all directions, but no burglar was visible.
Peace was stretched at full length in the gutter, and the low wall in its front effectually concealed him from observation.