“I shall shoot, however,” replied Lord Ernest, as quietly in his turn, and with less insolence, “and chance the noise, unless you instantly restore my property. I am glad you don’t dispute the last word,” he continued after a slight pause. “There is no keener honor than that which subsists, or ought to subsist, among thieves; and I need hardly say that I soon spotted you as one of the fraternity. Not in the beginning, mind you! For the moment I did think you were one of these smart detectives jumped to life from some sixpenny magazine; but to preserve the illusion you ought to provide yourself with a worthier lieutenant. It was he who gave your show away,” chuckled the wretch, dropping for a moment the affected style of speech which seemed intended to enhance our humiliation; “smart detectives don’t go about with little innocents to assist them. You needn’t be anxious about him, by the way; it wasn’t necessary to pitch him into the street; he is to be seen though not heard, if you look in the right direction. Nor must you put all the blame upon your friend; it was not he, but you, who made so sure that I had got out by the window. You see, I was in my bathroom all the time—with the door open.” “The bathroom, eh?” Raffles echoed with professional interest. “And you followed us on foot across the park?” “Of course.” “And then in a cab?” “And afterwards on foot once more.” “The simplest skeleton would let you in down below.” I saw the lower half of Lord Ernest’s face grinning in the light of the candle set between them on the ground. “You follow every move,” said he; “there can be no doubt you are one of the fraternity; and I shouldn’t wonder if we had formed our style upon the same model. Ever know A. J. Raffles?” The abrupt question took my breath away; but Raffles himself did not lose an instant over his answer. “Intimately,” said he. “That accounts for you, then,” laughed Lord Ernest, “as it does for me, though I never had the honor of the master’s acquaintance. Nor is it for me to say which is the worthier disciple. Perhaps, however, now that your friend is handcuffed in mid-air, and you yourself are at my mercy, you will concede me some little temporary advantage?” And his face split in another grin from the cropped moustache downward, as I saw no longer by candlelight but by a flash of lightning which tore the sky in two before Raffles could reply. “You have the bulge at present,” admitted Raffles; “but you have still to lay hands upon your, or our, ill-gotten goods. To shoot me is not necessarily to do so; to bring either one of us to a violent end is only to court a yet more violent and infinitely more disgraceful one for yourself. Family considerations alone should rule that risk out of your game. Now, an hour or two ago, when the exact opposite—”