"By Jove, I'll soon find out! Come on. There's hope yet."
This time we reached the stone steps without interference. I gave the candle to the girl, cautiously put a shoulder against one of the doors, and gave a gentle heave. It was not locked. Through the thin crack I looked out upon the bright world of moonshine and crystal. Instantly I permitted the door to settle into its accustomed place. I readily understood the burglar's reasons. Seated upon a box, less than a dozen feet away, and blissfully smoking one of the club's cigars, sat a burly policeman. So they had arrived upon the scene!
"What is it?" asked the girl, as I motioned her to retreat.
"The worst has come: the police!" dramatically.
"Gracious heavens, this is frightful! We shall never get out now. Oh dear! Why did I ever come? It will be in the papers, with horrid pictures. We ought not to have left the ball-room. Our very actions will tell heavily against us. Awful!"
"Now, don't you worry. They will not take any notice of you, once they set eyes upon me. Homo sum! They are looking for me. There's only one superfluous ten of hearts. I have it."
"But I shall be found with you, and the stupid police will swear I am an accomplice." She wrung her hands.
"But no jewels will be found upon us," I argued half-heartedly.
"They will say we have already disposed of them."
"But the real burglar—"