Major Bellingford Smart had arranged to go to a theatre that evening; but the theatre would still be there the next day. And suitable tenants were becoming considerably harder to find than they had been.
"Certainly I'll come over at half past ten, if that'll help you at all, Captain Bourne. What is the address?"
"Number eight-o-one, Belgrade Square," said the Saint, and rang off happily.
Major Bellingford Smart was punctual if he was nothing else. It was exactly half past ten when he arrived in Belgrade Square, and Simon Templar himself opened the door to him as he came up the steps.
"I'm afraid we're having a bit of trouble with the lights," remarked the Saint genially. "The hall light's just fizzled out. Can you see your way into the sitting-room?"
He had an electric torch in his hand, and with it he lighted Major Bellingford Smart into the nearest room. Bellingford Smart heard him clicking the switch up and down, and cursing under his breath.
"Now this one's gone on strike, Major. I'm awfully sorry. Will you take the torch and make yourself at home while I go and look at the fuses? There's a decanter over in the corner — help yourself."
He bumped into Bellingford Smart in the darkness, recovered his balance, apologised, and thrust his flashlight into the Major's hand. The door closed behind him.
Major Bellingford Smart turned the beam of the torch around the room in search of a chair — and, possibly, the decanter referred to. In another second he was not thinking of either, for in one corner the circle of light splashed over a safe whose door hung drunkenly open, half separated from its hinges: lowering the beam a trifle, he saw an array of gleaming tools spread out on the floor beside it.
He gasped, and instinctively moved over to investigate. Outside in the hall he heard the crash of a brass tray clattering on the floor, and straightened up with a start. Then heavy feet came pounding along the passage, the door burst open, and the lights were switched on. The hall lights outside were also on — nothing seemed to be the matter with them. For a few moments they dazzled him; and then, when he had blinked the glare out of his eyes, he saw that the doorway was filled by a black-trousered butler, with his coat off, and a footman with his tunic half buttoned. They looked at him, then at the open safe, and then back at him again; and there was no friendliness in their eyes.