uld take any of the inmates
to reach the library, an interval in which a thief might reasonably be
expected to have had time enough to get away without being seen; but
the possibility that she had not fully accomplished her ends when the
accident occurred, and that she had stayed to make frantic and desperate
efforts to do so right up to the last moment, would account for that.

She moved now to an electric-light switch, and turned on the light.
They must be able to see beyond any question of doubt that the person
escaping through the window was not the Sparrow. What was she afraid of
now, just at the last! There was an actual physical discomfort in the
furious thumping of that cowardly little heart of hers. It was the only
way. And it was worth it. And it was not so very dangerous. People,
aroused out of bed, could not follow her in their night clothes; and in
a matter of but a few minutes, before the police notified by telephone
could become a factor in the affair, she would have run the block down
the Avenue, and then the other block down the cross street, then back to
the taxi, and be whirling safely downtown.

Yes, she was ready! She nodded her head sharply, as though in imperative
self-command, and running back, her footfalls soundless on the rich,
heavy rug, she picked up the plush-lined necklace case. She dropped this
again, open, on the floor, halfway between the safe and the window. With
the case apparently burst open as it fell, and the necklace also on the
floor, the stage would be set! She felt inside her bodice, drew out the
necklace--and as she stood there holding it, and as it caught the light
and flashed back its fire and life from a thousand facets, a numbness
seemed to come stealing over her, and a horror, and a great fear, and a
dismay that robbed her of power of movement until it seemed that she was
rooted to the spot, and a low, gasping cry came from her lips. Her eyes,
wide with their alarm, were fixed on the window. There was a man's
face there, just above the sill--and now a man's form swung through the
window, and dropped lightly to the floor inside the room. And she stared
in horrified fascination, and could not move. It was the Adventurer.

"It's Miss Gray, isn't it? The White Moll?" he murmured amiably. "I've
been trying to find you all night. What corking luck! You remember me,
don't you? Last night, you know."

She did not answer. His eyes had shifted from her face to the glittering
riv