. . where the sun
Came peeping in at dawn . . .
I hardly remember what I did or left undone. I only know that
nothing broke, that somehow I kept my hold, and that in the end the
wire ran red-hot through my palms so that both were torn and
bleeding when I stood panting beside Raffles in the flower-beds.
There was no time for thinking then. Already there was a fresh
commotion in-doors; the tidal wave of excitement which had swept
all. before it to the upper regions was subsiding in as swift a
rush downstairs; and I raced after Raffles along the edge of the
drive without daring to look behind.
We came out by the opposite gate to that by which we had stolen in.
Sharp to the right ran the private lane behind the stables and
sharp to the right dashed Raffles, instead of straight along the
open road. It was not the course I should have chosen, but I
followed Raffles without a murmur, only too thankful that he had
assumed the lead at last. Already the stables were lit up like
a chandelier; there was a staccato rattle of horseshoes in the
stable yard, and the great gates were opening as we skimmed past
in the nick of time.
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