Come down after me to the basement; and remember,
though there's not a soul on the premises, you can't make too
little noise. There--there--listen to that!"
It was the measured tread that we had heard before on the
flagstones outside. Raffles darkened his lantern, and again we
stood motionless till it had passed.
"Either a policeman," he muttered, "or a watchman that all these
jewellers run between them. The watchman's the man for us to
watch; he's simply paid to spot this kind of thing."
We crept very gingerly down the stairs, which creaked a bit in
spite of us, and we picked up our shoes in the passage; then down
some narrow stone steps, at the foot of which Raffles showed his
light, and put on his shoes once more, bidding me do the same in
a rather louder tone than he had permitted himself to employ
overhead. We were now considerably below the level of the
street, in a small space with as many doors as it had sides.
Three were ajar, and we saw through them into empty cellars; but
in the fourth a key was turned and a bolt drawn; and this one
presently let us out into the bottom of a deep, square well of
fog. A similar door faced it across this area, and Raffles had
the lantern close against it, and was hiding the light with his
body, when a short and sudden crash made my heart stand still.
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