The monumental person with the short moustache led the advance. The
fool stood still upon the top step to let out the loudest and
cheeriest view-holloa that ever smote my ears.
It cost him more than he may know until I tell him. There was the
wide part of the landing between us; we had just that much start
along the narrow part, with the walls and doors upon our left, the
banisters on our right, and the baize door at the end. But if the
great Guillemard had not stopped to live up to his sporting
reputation, he would assuredly have laid one or other of us by the
heels, and either would have been tantamount to both. As I gave
Raffles a headlong lead to the baize door, I glanced down the great
well of stairs, and up came the daft yells of these sporting oafs:
"Gone away - gone away!"
"Yoick - yoick - yoick?"
"Yon-der they go?"
And gone I had, through the baize door to the back landing, with
Raffles at my heels. I held the swing door for him, and heard him
bang it in the face of the spluttering and blustering master of
the house. Other feet were already in the lower flight of the
backstairs; but the upper flight was the one for me, and in an
instant we were racing along the upper corridor with the
chuckle-headed pack at our heels.
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