om, and kept there for years. Think
of the prisoners in the Bastille. Or those who were taken by the
'Inquisition'."

"How horribly cruel. I wonder they lived through it, poor things."

"It's all very well to talk about the Middle Ages, but that doesn't get
us out of this place," said Marion, rather crossly. "Are we going to
stay the night here? Or is there any way of getting out?"

Miss Renton looked at the small portion of the window which opened, and
shook her head.

"Even if we could squeeze through there we couldn't drop to the yard,
and we should be no better off if we did."

"I shall hate the sight of these show-cases for evermore. I believe that
stuffed badger is blinking at me."

"Don't be silly!"

"I know I'm silly, but it's beginning to get d-d-d-dark in here, and I'm
scared to stay all n-n-n-night."

Marion was dabbing her eyes openly. She made no pretence at heroism.
Adventures might be romantic enough in the Middle Ages, but they were
decidedly unpleasant in the twentieth century. She would rather read
about them than experience them.

Leaving her chum to be consoled by Miss Renton, Lesbia mounted the chair
and looked through the window. About three feet below her there was a
fairly broad ledge, which adjoined a roof to the right. After all, the
opening was not so very small.

"I believe I could squeeze through here," she volunteered. "If you'd
guarantee to hold me tight, I could step on that ledge down there, and
get on to the roof, then I'd scramble along till I came in sight of the
street and could shout for help."

"Oh, Lesbia! Do you really dare?" gasped Marion, running to the window.

It seemed their only possible plan of escape, and as Lesbia declared she
was not nervous, Miss Renton offered to help her. She fastened her own
leather belt as a rope to the belt of Lesbia's coat, to make a firm
support by which to hold her, and dragged a table under the window for
them both to stand upon.

Luckily Lesbia was slim, so she squeezed through the frame without much
difficulty, and lowered her feet on to the ledge. Miss Renton steadying
her by the belt, she walked about a yard, then was able to grasp a piece
of gutter and to step on to the roof.

"Let go. I'm all right now!" she shouted. She clambered up the slates on
her hands and knees till she reached the ridge. Even then she was not
within view of the street, and had to scale more angles of roofs before
she caught the welcome glimpse of