So Theodore had no alternative but to accept the suggestion.

To prove his identity was, of course, the work of only a few minutes, after which Racksole, annoyed, but cool as ever, returned to his railings, while the policeman went off to another part of his beat, where he would be likely to meet a comrade and have a chat.
In the meantime, our friend Jules, sublimely unconscious of the altercation going on outside, and of the special risk which he ran, was of course actually in the cellar, which he had reached before Racksole got to the railings for the first time.

It was, indeed, a happy chance for Jules that his exit from the cellar coincided with the period during which Racksole was absent from the railings.

As Racksole came down the lane for the second time, he saw a figure walking about fifty yards in front of him towards the Embankment.

Instantly he divined that it was Jules, and that the policeman had thrown him just too late.