ancellor of the Exchequer. You can see for
yourself that a telegram to the Prime Minister is much worse. I really
think you'd better stay where you are."

But Clithering was, unfortunately, in a mood of hysterical heroism. He
said that he did not value his life, that lives were only given to men
in order that they might lay them down, and that the noblest way of
laying down a life was in the service of humanity.

I could see that Crossan was getting more and more suspicious every
minute.

"It is in order to save the lives of others," he said, "that I want to
send my telegram to the Prime Minister."

Crossan actually scowled at Clithering. I expected that he would
arrest him at once. There might have been, for all I knew, a Committee
of Public Safety sitting in the Town Hall. I could imagine Crossan
hauling the unfortunate Clithering before it on a charge of
communicating with the Prime Minister. I could imagine Clithering,
heroic to the last, waving his incriminating telegram in the faces of
his judges. Bland saved the situation.

"Come along, Colonel," he said. "Show me where that court martial of
yours is sitting. Lord Kilmore will restrain this lunatic till we get
back."

Crossan may have been pleased at being addressed as Colonel. Or he may
have trusted that I would prevent any telegram being sent to the Prime
Minister. At all events, he stopped scowling at Clithering and went
off with Bland. I offered Clithering some of the game pie, but he
refused to touch it. He sat down at a corner of the table and asked me
to lend him a pencil and some paper. I did so, and he composed several
long telegrams. The writing evidently soothed him. When he had
finished he asked me quite calmly whether I thought he would really be
hanged if he went to the post-office. I was not at all sure that he
would not. Clithering sighed when he heard my opinion. Then he sat
silent for a long time, evidently trying to make up his mind to the
hanging.

"If I could get the telegram through first," he said at last, "I
shouldn't so much mind--"

"But you wouldn't," I said; "and what is the good of throwing away
your life without accomplishing anything?"

"It's terrible," said Clithering, "terrible."

It was terrible, of course; but I was beginning to get tired of
Clithering. Besides, he looked very ridiculous in pyjamas which only
reached halfway down his legs and arms.

"Don't you think," I said, "that it would be better for you to go