our days, what should _I_ do?... I don't know. I could
howl, and shout. That's all.

What chance of being discovered have I, except by a tradesman wanting
his quarter's account settled very badly and being determined upon
hunting me up wherever I was.

A door at last! And light and fresh air through the chinks. It opens
easily, and I am on the leads of the roof.

With a [Illustration: BIRD'S-EYE VIEW] of the surrounding country. I
breathe freely once more. Now the question is how to get down again.

[Illustration: "SICH A GITTIN' UP STAIRS MASSA."]

CHAPTER V.

ON THE ROOF--DOWN AGAIN--FURTHER INSPECTION--VARIETY--ELIZABETHAN--
NORMAN--COLOUR--RAYS--FILTERED--CUI BONO?--SUGGESTION--PLAY IN STORE
--THE STABLES--PREVIOUS TENANTS--GOOD INTENTIONS--NAME.

Just as I am asking myself this, I meet Chilvern on the roof. He is
examining the chimneys. The others are below choosing their rooms. It
appears that no one has been up the narrow staircase except myself. He
shows me a different way down.

We take another turn over the house. This time more observantly. Various
orders of architecture. Chilvern, as an architect, makes a professional
joke. He says, "The best order of architecture is an order to build an
unlimited number of houses."

_Happy Thought._--Who was the first scientific builder?
_Answer._--Noah, when he invented arky-tecture. (N.B. This will do for a
Sunday conundrum.)

Part of it is very old, (the staircase and tower part where I've been),
and wall of the yard at the back, overgrown with ivy, shows the remains
of a genuine Norman arch.

Another quarter is decidedly Elizabethan, while a long and well
proportioned music room,--of which the walls and ceiling, once evidently
covered with paintings, are now dirty, damp, and exhibiting, here and
there, patches of colour not yet entirely faded,--is decidedly Italian.

Of this apartment, the crone can tell us nothing. She never recollects
it inhabited. We undo the huge shutters for ourselves, and bring down a
cloud of dust and cobwebs.

The rays of light, bursting violently, as it were, into the
darkness--become--after once passing the square panes, or where there
are no panes, the framework--suddenly impure, and in need of a patent
filter before they are fit for use.

Chilvern admires the proportions, and asks what we'll make, of this
room?

A pause.

_Happy Thought._--A Theatre. Nothing more evident; nothing easier.