We found ourselves facing a small window about two feet from the ground. The top sash was a few inches open, and through the gap we could see a faint glimmer of light stealing in under the door opposite.
"I'd better go first," whispered Billy. "You're so devilish big, you'll probably stick."
I nodded, and with infinite care we lowered the sash, until every possible inch of space was available. Then, mounting on my back, Billy inserted his legs, and wriggled himself down bit by bit, until his feet touched the floor.
For a moment we paused, listening intently for any sounds in the passage. None came, and Billy, leaning forward through the window, again whispered in my ear.
"Head first, Jack. That's the only way for you."
I took his advice. I never thought I should get through, for my shoulders are at least a couple of inches broader than Billy's, and it had been a tight fit for him. A mighty squirm, combined with a sharp pull from inside at the critical moment, just did the trick, however, and there I was standing beside him in the darkness, sore but triumphant.
We waited a few seconds so that I could recover the breath which had been nearly squeezed out of my body. Then, treading as delicately as Agag, we advanced towards the door. Feeling about in the darkness, I discovered a latch, and the gentlest pressure showed me that the way was clear.
"Ready, Billy?" I whispered, drawing out my revolver.
"Right oh," came the swift response.
I swung the door open, and we stepped out swiftly into the passage.