th laughter, he sat down
upon the steps, expressed his great satisfaction at the reception of
his efforts to amuse, and assured us that his death-agony, which we
should shortly witness, would be still more diverting.

By now it was a quarter to four, and, so soon as Jonah and I could
control our emotion, we took our deliverer by the arms and showed him
'the best way up.'

He listened attentively.

At length--

"Thanks very much," he said weakly. "Let's just go over it again,
shall I? Just to be sure I've got it cold. First, I swarm up that
pillar. Good. I may say I never have swarmed. I never knew anybody
did swarm, except bees or people coming out of a football match. Never
mind. Then I get hold of the gutter and draw myself up with my hands,
while continuing to swarm with my legs. If--if the gutter will stand
my weight.... Of course, that's easily ascertained. I just try it.
If it will, it does. If it won't, I should like a penny-in-the-slot
machine erected in my memory outside the English Club. Yes, I've got
that. Well, if it will, I work--I think you said 'work'--round until I
can reach the down-pipe. The drain--down-pipe will enable me to get my
feet into the gutter. Sounds all right, doesn't it? 'The drain-pipe
will enable.' A cryptic phrase. Quite the Brigade-Office touch.
Where were we? Oh, yes. The drain-pipe having enabled me, etc., I
just fall forward on to the tiles, when my hands will encounter and
grasp the balustrade. Then I climb over and pat Nobby. Yes, except
for the cesspool--I mean the drain-pipe--interlude, it's too easy."

We helped him off with his coat....

We watched his reduction of the pillar with trembling lips; we heard
his commentary upon gutters and those who make them with shaking
shoulders; but it was when, with one foot in the air and the other
wedged behind the down-pipe, the English Rose spoke of the uncertainty
of life and inquired if we believed in Hell--when, after an exhausting
and finally successful effort to get his left knee into the gutter, he
first knelt upon a spare tile to his wounding and then found that his
right foot was inextricably wedged between the down-pipe and the
wall--when, as a result of his struggles, a section of the down-pipe
came away in his hand, so that he was left clinging to the gutter with
one foot in the air and twelve feet of piping swaying in his arms--then
our control gave way and we let ourselves run before a tempest o