I insisted upon Heinrich going first because it did not look very safe, and how my heart bounded when the skylight yielded to his touch and he was able to hoist himself, with the assistance of Hermann, through the aperture. I followed immediately afterwards. We found ourselves on a sloping roof, and edging my way down to the guttering, I looked down and found that we had a drop of no more than a dozen feet. In three minutes we were on the ground, moving stealthily from bush to bush unchallenged by the cordon of policemen, and reached the outside road without mishap. We were now on the other side of the house, far away from the ravine and my waiting motor-car. The first pale light of dawn was in the sky and I knew that we could not afford to take the risk of searching for the road by which we had come. Yet without the motor-car I was in a quandary. How might I get these portfolios of such world-shaking importance away without detection? I could not carry them myself and I could not trust my companions, for we Germans trust nobody, and by our caution-dictated suspicion we have eliminated half of the dangers which ordinarily threaten a modern state. We were in a residential road. About Leatham Priory quite a respectable suburb has grown up and this was one of those better-class thoroughfares made up of detached houses standing in their own grounds, or, as the English advertisements put it, “Houses with every modern convenience.” In a flash I had made my plans. I knew that there was certain to be in such a road as this an empty house, and sure enough the third of the houses we passed bore in the garden a board (or rather two boards) saying it was “To Let.” I beckoned my party to follow me. Heinrich opened the door in a trice--it was child’s play to this mechanic--and we entered the house, our footsteps sounding hollowly. It was not wholly unfurnished, I discovered to my surprise, for on the first floor there was a bedroom containing a few articles of furniture, but apparently the room had not been used for some time. The shutters were tightly fastened over the window and I guessed that the room had been used by a caretaker until the owner had got tired of paying his wages. This view was fully confirmed later when I looked at the board outside, for the words “Apply to caretaker” had been painted over and a new address had been given at which the key might be obtained. In this room there was a big cupboard, the key of which was in the lock and into the cupboard I bundled the portfolios, locking the door, and put the key into my pocket. “Now,” I said to my comrades, “each will go his own way but avoid observation as far as possible.” “What about the car and the tools in the passage?” asked Hermann. “I have told the car not to wait beyond daybreak,” I said (German forethought again!) “and as for the tools you may collect them after dark to-night.”