I
began to toil breathlessly up the last flight I knew that my task was
done, for my young enemy could hardly crawl, and had begun to sob and
whine, and I could just make out:

"You'd best let me be--I--I--ain't--I ain't done--done--"

I heard no more, only that doors were being thrown open, and there was a
buzz of voices below, with heavy footsteps in the passage.

Still that did not seem to have anything to do with me, so intent was I
on my pursuit up those last two flights of stairs, which seemed to be
steeper, more broken, and more difficult to climb than those which had
gone before. In fact the boy above me was dragging himself up, and I
had settled down into a walk, helping myself on by the dirty hand-rail,
and panting so hoarsely that each breath came to be a snore. My heart,
too, throbbed heavily, and seemed to be beating right up into my throat.

I had gained on my quarry, so that we were on the last flight together,
and this gave me the requisite strength for the last climb, for I knew
that he could go no further.

Half-way up and there was a sloping ceiling above, in which was a
blackened skylight, across which was a string and some dirty white
garments hanging to dry, while to right and to left there were doors
that had been painted black for reasons full of wisdom; and as my head
rose higher I saw the boy who had literally crawled up on to the
landing, rise up, with the rope still upon his arm, and fling himself
against the farthest of these two doors.

It flew open with a crash, and then seemed to be banged to heavily, but
it was against me, for, summoning up all my remaining strength, I
reached the top, and imitating the boy's action, the door came back upon
my hands, and was dashed open again.

I almost tumbled in, staggering forward, and hardly able to keep upon my
legs, so that I nearly reached the middle of the room before I was aware
that the boy was cowering down in a corner upon our rope, and that a big
scowling stubble-chinned man had just risen dressed from a bed on which
he had lain, to catch me by the shoulders in a tremendous grip, and hold
me backwards panting like some newly captured bird.

I noticed that the man wore a great sleeved waistcoat, breeches, and
heavy boots, and that his low forehead was puckered up into an ugly
scowl, with one great wrinkle across it that seemed like another mouth
as he forced me right back against the wall, and held me shivering
there.

"Here, sh