I jumped into the gulf； and as blindly as Curtius； for I was still thinking
of Santa Claus and the traditional virtue of such vertical entrance。
〃In every well…appointed gentleman's house； I reflected； there was
the front door for the gentlemen； and the side door for the tradesmen；
but there was also the top door for the gods。 The chimney is；
so to speak； the underground passage between earth and heaven。
By this starry tunnel Santa Claus manageslike the skylark
to be true to the kindred points of heaven and home。
Nay； owing to certain conventions； and a widely distributed lack
of courage for climbing； this door was； perhaps； little used。
But Santa Claus's door was really the front door：
it was the door fronting the universe。
〃I thought this as I groped my way across the black garret； or loft below
the roof； and scrambled down the squat ladder that let us down into a yet
larger loft below。 Yet it was not till I was half…way down the ladder that I
suddenly stood still； and thought for an instant of retracing all my steps；
as my companion had retraced them from the beginning of the garden wall。
The name of Santa Claus had suddenly brought me back to my senses。
I remembered why Santa Clause came； and why he was welcome。
〃I was brought up in the propertied classes； and with all
their horror of offences against property。 I had heard all
the regular denunciations of robbery； both right and wrong；
I had read the Ten Commandments in church a thousand times。
And then and there； at the age of thirty…four； half…way
down a ladder in a dark room in the bodily act of burglar；
I saw suddenly for the first time that theft； after all；
is really wrong。
〃It was too late to turn back； however； and I followed
the strangely soft footsteps of my huge companion across
the lower and larger loft； till he knelt down on a part
of the bare flooring and； after a few fumbling efforts；
lifted a sort of trapdoor。 This released a light from below；
and we found ourselves looking down into a lamp…lit sitting room；
of the sort that in large houses often leads out of a bedroom；
and is an adjunct to it。 Light thus breaking from beneath
our feet like a soundless explosion； showed that the trapdoor
just lifted was clogged with dust and rust； and had doubtless
been long disused until the advent of my enterprising friend。
But I did not look at this long； for the sight of the shining
room underneath us had an almost unnatural attractiveness。
To enter a modern interior at so strange an angle；
by so forgotten a door； was an epoch in one's psychology。
It was like having found a fourth dimension。
〃My companion dropped from the aperture into the room so suddenly
and soundlessly； that I could do nothing but follow him；
though； for lack of practice in crime； I was by no means soundless。
Before the echo of my boots had died away； the big burglar
had gone quickly to the door； half opened it； and stood looking
down the staircase and listening。 Then； leaving the door
still half open； he came back into the middle of the room；
and ran his roving blue eye round its furniture and ornament。
The room was comfortably lined with books in that rich and human
way that makes the walls seem alive； it was a deep and full；
but slovenly； bookcase； of the sort that is constantly ransacked
for the purposes of reading in bed。 One of those stunted
German stoves that look like red goblins stood in a corner；
and a sideboard of walnut wood with closed doors in its lower part。
There were three windows； high but narrow。 After another glance round；
my housebreaker plucked the walnut doors open and rummaged inside。
He found nothing there； apparently； except an extremely
handsome cut…glass decanter； containing what looked like port。
Somehow the sight of the thief returning with this ridiculous little
luxury in his hand woke within me once more all the revelation
and revulsion I had felt above。
〃‘Don't do it！' I cried quite incoherently； ‘Santa Claus'
〃‘Ah；' said the burglar； as he put the decanter on the table
and stood looking at me； ‘you've thought about that； too。'
〃‘I can't express a millionth part of what I've thought of；' I cried；
‘but it's something like this。。。 oh； can't you see it？ Why are children
not afraid of Santa Claus； though he comes like a thief in the night？
He is permitted secrecy； trespass； almost treacherybecause there are
more toys where he has been。 What should we feel if there were less？
Down what chimney from hell would come the goblin that should take
away the children's balls and dolls while they slept？ Could a Greek
tragedy be more gray and cruel than that daybreak and awakening？
Dog…stealer； horse…stealer； man…stealercan you think of anything
so base as a toy…stealer？'
〃The burglar； as if absently； took a large revolver from his pocket and laid
it on the table beside the decanter； but still kept his blue reflective eyes
fixed on my face。
〃‘Man！' I said； ‘all stealing is toy…stealing。 That's why
it's really wrong。 The goods of the unhappy children of men
should be really respected because of their worthlessness。
I know Naboth's vineyard is as painted as Noah's Ark。 I know
Nathan's ewe…lamb is really a woolly baa…lamb on a wooden stand。
That is why I could not take them away。 I did not mind so much；
as long as I thought of men's things as their valuables；
but I dare not put a hand upon their vanities。'
〃After a moment I added abruptly； ‘Only saints and sages ought to be robbed。
They may be stripped and pillaged； but not the poor little worldly people
of the things that are their poor little pride。'
〃He set out two wineglasses from the cupboard； filled them both；
and lifted one of them with a salutation towards his lips。
〃‘Don't do it！' I cried。 ‘It might be the last bottle of some rotten
vintage or other。 The master of this house may be quite proud of it。
Don't you see there's something sacred in the silliness of such things？'
〃‘It's not the last bottle；' answered my criminal calmly；
‘there's plenty more in the cellar。'
〃‘You know the house； then？' I said。
〃‘Too well；' he answered； with a sadness so strange as to have
something eerie about it。 ‘I am always trying to forget what I know
and to find what I don't know。' He drained his glass。
‘Besides；' he added； ‘it will do him good。'
〃‘What will do him good？'
〃‘The wine I'm drinking；' said the strange person。
〃‘Does he drink too much； then？' I inquired。
〃‘No；' he answered； ‘not unless I do。'
〃‘Do you mean；' I demanded； ‘that the owner of this house approves
of all you do？'
〃‘God forbid；' he answered； ‘but he has to do the same。'
〃The dead face of the fog looking in at all three windows
unreasonable increased a sense of riddle； and even terror；
about this tall； narrow house we had entered out of the sky。
I had once more the notion about the gigantic genii
I fancied that enormous Egyptian faces； of the dead reds
and yellows of Egypt； were staring in at each window of our
little lamp…lit room as at a lighted stage of marionettes。
My companion went on playing with the pistol in front of him；
and talking with the same rather creepy confidentialness。
〃‘I am always trying to find himto catch him unawares。
I come in through skylights and trapdoors to find him；
but whenever I find himhe is doing what I am doing。'
〃I sprang to my feet with a thrill of fear。 ‘There is some one coming；'
I cried； and my cry had something of a shriek in it。 〃Not from
the stairs below； but along the passage from the inner bedchamber
（which seemed somehow to make it more alarming）； footsteps were
coming nearer。 I am quite unable to say what mystery； or monster；
or double； I expected to see when the door was pushed open from within。
I am only quite certain that I did not expect to see what I did see。
〃Framed in the open doorway stood； with an air of great serenity；
a rather tall young woman； definitely though indefinably artistic
her dress the colour of spring and her hair of autumn leaves；
with a face which； though still comparatively young；
conveyed experience as well as intelligence。 All she said was；
‘I didn't hear you come in。'
〃‘I came in another way；' said the Permeator； somewhat vaguely。
‘I'd left my latchkey at home。'
〃I got to my feet in a mixture of politeness and mania。
‘I'm really very sorry；' I cried。 ‘I know my position is irregular。
Would you be so obliging as to tell me whose house this is。？'
〃‘Mine；' said the burglar； ‘May I present you to my wife？'
〃I doubtfully； and somewhat slowly； resumed my seat；
and I did not get out of it till nearly morning。 Mrs。 Smith
（such was the prosaic name of this far from prosaic household）
lingered a little； talking slightly and pleasantly。
She left on my mind the impression of a certain odd mixture
of shyness and sharpness； as if she knew the world well；
but was still a little harmlessly afraid of it。
Perhaps the possession of so jumpy and incalculable a husband
had left her a little nervous。 Anyhow； when she had retired
to the inner chamber once more； that extraordinary man poured
forth his apologia and autobiography over the dwindling wine。
〃He had been sent to Cambridge with a view to a