er, between bare boards, stripped walls, and the
open doors of empty rooms.

"Where have you brought me?" I cried. "The house is unoccupied!"

"Hush! Wait!" he whispered, and he led the way into one of the empty
rooms. His match went out as we crossed the threshold, and he struck
another without the slightest noise. Then he stood with his back to
me, fumbling with something that I could not see. But, when he threw
the second match away, there was some other light in its stead, and a
slight smell of oil. I stepped forward to look over his shoulder, but
before I could do so he had turned and flashed a tiny lantern in my
face.

"What's this?" I gasped. "What rotten trick are you going to play?"

"It's played," he answered, with his quiet laugh.

"On me?"

"I am afraid so, Bunny."

"Is there no one in the house, then?"

"No one but ourselves."

"So it was mere chaff about your friend in Bond Street, who could let
us have that money?"

"Not altogether. It's quite true that Danby is a friend of mine."

"Danby?"

"The jeweller underneath."

"What do you mean?" I whispered, trembling like a leaf as his meaning
dawned upon me. "Are we to get the money from the jeweller?"

"Well, not exactly."

"What, then?"

"The equivalent--from his shop."

There was no need for another question. I understood everything but my
own density. He had given me a dozen hints, and I had taken none. And
there I stood staring at him, in that empty room; and there he stood
with his dark lantern, laughing at me.

"A burglar!" I gasped. "You--you!"

"I told you I lived by my wits."

"Why couldn't you tell me what you were going to do? Why couldn't you
trust me? Why must you lie?" I demanded, piqued to the quick for all
my horror.

"I wanted to tell you," said he. "I was on the point of telling you
more than once. You may remember how I sounded you about crime, though
you have probably forgotten what you said yourself. I didn't think you
meant it at the time, but I thought I'd put you to the test. Now I see
you didn't, and I don't blame you. I only am to blame. Get out of it,
my dear boy, as quick as you can; leave it to me. You won't give me
away, whatever else you do!"

Oh, his cleverness! His fiendish cleverness! Had he fallen back on
threats, coercion, sneers, all might have been different even yet. But
he set me free to leave him in the lurch. He would not blame me. He
did not even bind me to secre