about midnight
The night that we did choose was as misty as even the Thames Valley is capable of making them . Raffles smeared vaseline upon the plated parts of his Beeston Humber before starting , and our dear landlady cosseted us both , and prayed we might see nothing of the nasty burglars , not denying as the reward would be very handy to them that got it , to say nothing of the honor and glory . We had promised her a liberal perquisite in the event of our success , but she must not give other cyclists our idea by mentioning it to a soul . It was about midnight when we cycled through Kingston to Surbiton , having trundled our machines across Ham Fields , mournful in the mist as those by Acheron , and so over Teddington Bridge . I often wonder why the pantry window is the vulnerable point of nine houses out of ten . This house of ours was almost the tenth , for the window in question had bars of sorts , but not the right sort . The only bars that Raffles allowed to beat him were the kind that are let into the stone outside ; those fixed within are merely screwed to the woodwork , and you can unscrew as many as necessary if you take the trouble and have the time .