It lay like a golden rod under the front-door--and vanished. It
reappeared like a gold thread under the lintel--and vanished for
good. We heard the stairs creak, creak, and cease, also for
good. We neither saw nor heard any more, though we stood waiting
on the grass till our feet were soaked with the dew.
"I'm going in," said Raffles at last. "I don't believe he saw us
at all. I wish he had. This way."
We trod gingerly on the path, but the gravel stuck to our wet
soles, and grated horribly in a little tiled veranda with a glass
door leading within. It was through this glass that Raffles had
first seen the light; and he now proceeded to take out a pane,
with the diamond, the pot of treacle, and the sheet of brown
paper which were seldom omitted from his impedimenta. Nor did he
dispense with my own assistance, though he may have accepted it
as instinctively as it was proffered. In any case it was these
fingers that helped to spread the treacle on the brown paper, and
pressed the latter to the glass until the diamond had completed
its circuit and the pane fell gently back into our hands.
Raffles now inserted his hand, turned the key in the lock, and,
by making a long arm, succeeded in drawing the bolt at the bottom
of the door; it proved to be the only one, and the door opened,
though not very wide.
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