“Look here, Jem. When you straighten up, let me steady myself with my hands on the sloping ceiling there; now try.”
The former process was gone through, after listening to find all silent below; and Don stood erect once more, supporting himself by the wall.
“Now edge round gently, Jem. That’s right.”
Jem obeyed, and by progressing very slowly, they got to within about ten feet of the window, which Don saw that he could reach easily, when the balance was lost once more.
“Don’t hold, Jem!” cried Don; and he leaped backwards, to come down all right this time.
By no means discouraged, they went back to the end; and this time, by progressing more slowly, the window was reached, and, to their great delight, Don found that it was fastened inside, opening outwards by means of a couple of hinges at the highest end, and provided with a ratchet, to keep it open to any distance required.
“Can you bear me if I try to open it, Jem?”
“Can I? Ah!”
Jem was a true bearer, standing as fast as a small elephant as Don opened the window, and then supporting himself by a beam which ran across the opening, thrust out his head and surveyed the exterior.
He was not long in making out their position—in the top floor of a warehouse, the roof sloping, so that escape along it was impossible, while facing him was the blank wall of a higher building, evidently on the other side of a narrow alley. Don looked to right, but there was no means of making their position known so as to ask for help. To the left he was no better off, and seeing that the place had been well chosen as a temporary lock-up for the impressed men, Don prepared to descend.