“Meanwhile, what if my friend and I had been professional thieves? Why, we could have over-powered you in an instant, my good fellow!” “That you couldn’t; leastways, not without bringing the whole place about your ears.” “Well, I shall write to the _Times_, all the same. I’m a connoisseur in all this sort of thing, and I won’t have unnecessary risks run with the nation’s property. You said there was an attendant just outside, but he sounds to me as though he were at the other end of the corridor. I shall write to-day!” For an instant we all three listened; and Raffles was right. Then I saw two things in one glance. Raffles had stepped a few inches backward, and stood poised upon the ball of each foot, his arms half raised, a light in his eyes. And another kind of light was breaking over the crass features of our friend the constable. “Then shall I tell you what _I’ll_ do?” he cried, with a sudden clutch at the whistle-chain on his chest. The whistle flew out, but it never reached his lips. There were a couple of sharp smacks, like double barrels discharged all but simultaneously, and the man reeled against me so that I could not help catching him as he fell. “Well done, Bunny! I’ve knocked him out—I’ve knocked him out! Run you to the door and see if the attendants have heard anything, and take them on if they have.” Mechanically I did as I was told. There was no time for thought, still less for remonstrance or reproach, though my surprise must have been even more complete than that of the constable before Raffles knocked the sense out of him. Even in my utter bewilderment, however, the instinctive caution of the real criminal did not desert me. I ran to the door, but I sauntered through it, to plant myself before a Pompeiian fresco in the corridor; and there were the two attendants still gossiping outside the further door; nor did they hear the dull crash which I heard even as I watched them out of the corner of each eye. It was hot weather, as I have said, but the perspiration on my body seemed already to have turned into a skin of ice. Then I caught the faint reflection of my own face in the casing of the fresco, and it frightened me into some semblance of myself as Raffles joined me with his hands in his pockets. But my fear and indignation were redoubled at the sight of him, when a single glance convinced me that his pockets were as empty as his hands, and his mad outrage the most wanton and reckless of his whole career. “Ah, very interesting, very interesting, but nothing to what they have in the museum at Naples or in Pompeii itself. You must go there some day, Bunny. I’ve a good mind to take you myself. Meanwhile—slow march! The beggar hasn’t moved an eyelid. We may swing for him if you show indecent haste!” “We!” I whispered. “We!” And my knees knocked together as we came up to the chatting attendants. But Raffles must needs interrupt them to ask the way to the Prehistoric Saloon. “At the top of the stairs.”