rsed diamonds that had been our snare, the pasty pig-face of the
over-fed pugilist, and the flaming cheeks and hook nose of Rosenthall
himself. I was looking beyond them at the doorway filled with
quivering silk and plush, black faces, white eyeballs, woolly pates.
But a sudden silence recalled my attention to the millionaire. And
only his nose retained its color.

"What d'ye mean?" he whispered with a hoarse oath. "Spit it out, or,
by Christmas, I'll drill you!"

"Whort price thet brikewater?" drawled Raffles coolly.

"Eh?"

Rosenthall's revolvers were describing widening orbits.

"Whort price thet brikewater--old _I.D.B._?"

"Where in hell did you get hold o' that?" asked Rosenthall, with a
rattle in his thick neck, meant for mirth.

"You may well arst," says Raffles. "It's all over the plice w'ere _I_
come from."

"Who can have spread such rot?"

"I dunno," says Raffles; "arst the gen'leman on yer left; p'r'aps 'E
knows."

The gentleman on his left had turned livid with emotion. Guilty
conscience never declared itself in plainer terms. For a moment his
small eyes bulged like currants in the suet of his face; the next, he
had pocketed his pistols on a professional instinct, and was upon us
with his fists.

"Out o' the light--out o' the light!" yelled Rosenthall in a frenzy.

He was too late. No sooner had the burly pugilist obstructed his fire
than Raffles was through the window at a bound; while I, for standing
still and saying nothing, was scientifically felled to the floor.

I cannot have been many moments without my senses. When I recovered
them there was a great to-do in the garden, but I had the drawing-room
to myself. I sat up. Rosenthall and Purvis were rushing about
outside, cursing the Kaffirs and nagging at each other.

"Over THAT wall, I tell yer!"

"I tell you it was this one. Can't you whistle for the police?"

"Police be damned! I've had enough of the blessed police."

"Then we'd better get back and make sure of the other rotter."

"Oh, make sure o' yer skin. That's what you'd better do. Jala, you
black hog, if I catch YOU skulkin'...."

I never heard the threat. I was creeping from the drawing-room on my
hands and knees, my own revolver swinging by its steel ring from my
teeth.

For an instant I thought that the hall also was deserted. I was wrong,
and I crept upon a Kaffir on all fours. Poor devil, I could not bring
myself to deal him a base blow, but I thr