but not so Buller. He must have that outside edge
perfectly, and make complete circles on it, without hesitation or
wobbling, much less falling, before he attempted anything else.
Progress did not seem slow to him, he was used to that in everything,
and he was surprised at improving as quickly as he did. All he dreaded
was a heavy snow-fall, or a breaking up of the frost, and either
calamity was to be expected from hour to hour. Before going to bed on
the night of the third day of the ice bearing, he drew the curtain and
looked out of window. The moon was nearly full, there was not a breath
of wind stirring to shake the hoar-frost off the trees; all was hard,
and bright, and clear. How splendid the pits would be now! How
glorious to have the whole sheet of ice to one's self! why, with such a
chance of solitary practice he might well expect to cut an eight, for he
could already complete entire circles on each foot. If it were not for
the bars to his window he would certainly go. The lane below had no
building to overlook it; none of the windows of that part of the house
where Dr Jolliffe and his family, and the servants slept, commanded the
lane. He would have no other house to pass on the way to the gravel-
pits; really there would be no risk to speak of at all. The window was
barely more than six feet, certainly not seven from the ground, and the
brick wall old and full of inequalities where the mortar had fallen out,
and the toe might rest; with a yard of rope dangling from the sill, to
get in again would be the easiest thing possible. The more he thought
about it the more simple the whole scheme seemed; if it were not for the
bars. He examined them. The removal of one would be sufficient.

"You beast!" said Buller, seizing and shaking it. It seemed to give a
little, and he shook it again: it certainly was not very tight, and he
examined it further. It fitted into the woodwork of the window-frame at
the top, and terminated at the bottom in a flat plate, perforated with
three holes, by which it was secured by nails to the sill. Nails? no,
by Jove, screws! Only the paint had filled in the little creases at the
top of them, and it was simple enough to pick that off. His pocket-
knife had a screw-driver at the top of it, he applied this and turned
it; the screw came up like a lamb. So did the second; so did the third.
The bar was free at the bottom, and when he pulled it towards him it
came out in his h