He darted from the room, sprang up a ladder which stood on the landing—pushed up a trap-door—and in another moment was on the roof of the house.
The officers were close upon him. Dykes and his two men had effected an entry by the front-door of the house almost at the same moment that Bingham and his follower had broken in at the back; and the entire posse reached the landing just at the moment that the trap-door fell down heavily into its place.
"He has escaped by the roof!" cried Dykes. "Bingham, my boy, take a couple of chaps, and watch the backs of the houses: he can't get away by the front—it's too high for him to leap into the street. Me and t'other chap will after him to the tilings."
Thus saying, Dykes ascended the ladder as quickly as his unwieldly form would permit. The trap-door was easily raised, as it only fastened inside; and the portly body of the Bow Street officer, who possessed more courage than alacrity, was forced through the small aperture. The operation was slow and difficult; but at last Mr. Dykes stood on a narrow ledge which ran along the whole row of houses, and from which the roof rose obliquely behind. This ledge was only protected by a parapet about two feet high; and the officer felt his position to be any thing but a safe one.
But he was not the man to shrink from danger.
"Come along, you feller," he cried out to his follower, who speedily emerged from the opening. "You cut along that way, and I'll go this."
And they proceeded in different directions on the roof of the house.
The moon shone brightly, but Thomas Rainford was not to be seen.
Suddenly an exclamation of triumph burst from the yard at the back of one of the adjacent houses.
"Holloa?" vociferated Dykes, from the eminence on which he stood.