I must have talked to the policeman for fully fifteen minutes, and had asked him many questions. Before the end of that time I had, however, discovered that he was of a superstitious nature, and that he did not at all like what was happening. I pondered for a little while, then I said-- "Look here, officer"--if you want to please a policeman always call him "officer"--"I am going to peep into that room, and you must help me." "Me, sir?" "Yes, you. What are policemen for, except to help people? Now listen. I can't, of course, get into the house, but I am going to arrange for a ladder to be brought here to-night that will reach to the first-floor windows. This street is, I'm sure, quite deserted in the small hours of the morning. The ladder will be hoisted up by the men who bring it, you will keep an eye up and down the street to see that nobody comes along to interrupt us. Then I shall crawl up the ladder and peer in at the window. If there is space between the boards wide enough to admit light, the space must be wide enough to enable me to peep into the room." "It's a bit risky, sir." "Risky? Not the slightest. I'll make it worth your while to undertake what risk there is. So that is understood. You are on duty here to-night at two o'clock?" "Oh, yes, sir, but--" "There is no `but.' I shall see you later, then." I returned to King Street. My man John had a friend who worked for a builder, he told me. This friend of his would, he said, arrange everything, and be delighted to. Oh, yes, he had a ladder. He had several ladders. He could bring along single-handed, a ladder the length I wanted, and set it in position. This was satisfactory. I went to a theatre in order to kill time, for I felt excited and terribly impatient. I had not told Vera of my plan, or Faulkner, or indeed anybody but the policeman. The builder's man was punctual to the minute. He had concealed the ladder in Crane's Court before dark, thinking suspicion might be aroused were he to be seen carrying a ladder through the streets of London in the middle of the night. Two o'clock had just struck, when he crept stealthily into Belgrave Square with the ladder over his shoulder. Acting upon my instructions, he laid it flat upon the pavement. Impatiently I waited. A quarter-past two chimed on some far-distant clock. Still the windows remained in darkness. Twenty minutes passed... Twenty-five... I began to feel anxious. Would this mysterious visitor not come to-night? That would indeed be a bitter disappointment. Ah! The light had appeared. It was on the first floor. Now it percolated feebly between the boards covering two windows. At a signal from me the man picked up the ladder, raised it to a vertical position, then let it rest, without a sound, against the window-sill. "All right, sir," he whispered to me. Restraining my excitement, I began slowly, cautiously, to creep up the rungs. CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. CONTAINS A FURTHER SURPRISE.