s, sleepless night it
gave me; and the roofs of the houses opposite standing out at last
against the blue-gray London dawn. I wondered whether I should ever
see another, and was very hard on myself for that little expedition
which I had made on my own wilful account.

It was between eight and nine o'clock in the evening when we took up
our position in the garden adjoining that of Reuben Rosenthall; the
house itself was shut up, thanks to the outrageous libertine next door,
who, by driving away the neighbors, had gone far towards delivering
himself into our hands. Practically secure from surprise on that side,
we could watch our house under cover of a wall just high enough to see
over, while a fair margin of shrubs in either garden afforded us
additional protection. Thus entrenched, we had stood an hour, watching
a pair of lighted bow-windows with vague shadows flitting continually
across the blinds, and listening to the drawing of corks, the clink of
glasses, and a gradual crescendo of coarse voices within. Our luck
seemed to have deserted us: the owner of the purple diamonds was dining
at home and dining at undue length. I thought it was a dinner-party.
Raffles differed; in the end he proved right. Wheels grated in the
drive, a carriage and pair stood at the steps; there was a stampede
from the dining-room, and the loud voices died away, to burst forth
presently from the porch.

Let me make our position perfectly clear. We were over the wall, at
the side of the house, but a few feet from the dining-room windows. On
our right, one angle of the building cut the back lawn in two
diagonally; on our left, another angle just permitted us to see the
jutting steps and the waiting carriage. We saw Rosenthall come
out--saw the glimmer of his diamonds before anything. Then came the
pugilist; then a lady with a head of hair like a bath sponge; then
another, and the party was complete.

Raffles ducked and pulled me down in great excitement.

"The ladies are going with them," he whispered. "This is great!"

"That's better still."

"The Gardenia!" the millionaire had bawled.

"And that's best of all," said Raffles, standing upright as hoofs and
wheels crunched through the gates and rattled off at a fine speed.

"Now what?" I whispered, trembling with excitement.

"They'll be clearing away. Yes, here come their shadows. The
drawing-room windows open on the lawn. Bunny, it's the psychological
moment. Where's tha