"Good Heavens! We can't do that! How can—"
Bullard darted to the door and listened. After a moment he turned the handle gingerly. Then he grinned.
"I'm hanged," said he, "but the artful Caw has locked us in!"
"He suspects us!"
"Can't help it." Bullard sped to the bay window and drew aside one of the heavy curtains.
"I've got it!" he exclaimed.
Christopher Craig had had a craze for things that worked silently and easily. Bullard lifted the heavy sash with scarce a sound.
"Switch off the lights and come here!" he ordered. "Don't fall over things and make a row."
When Lancaster joined him Bullard was leaning half out of the window, directing the ray from an electric torch on the ground below. An incessant murmuring came from the loch, filling their ears.
"Lancaster, could you drop that height?"