st. That is one of the most annoying
things about stories, you cannot tell all the different parts of them at
the same time.

Robert's first remark when he found himself seated on the damp, cold,
sooty leads was--

'Here's a go!'

Jane's first act was tears.

'Dry up, Pussy; don't be a little duffer,' said her brother, kindly,
'it'll be all right.'

And then he looked about, just as Cyril had known he would, for
something to throw down, so as to attract the attention of the wayfarers
far below in the street. He could not find anything. Curiously enough,
there were no stones on the leads, not even a loose tile. The roof was
of slate, and every single slate knew its place and kept it. But, as so
often happens, in looking for one thing he found another. There was a
trap-door leading down into the house.

And that trap-door was not fastened.

'Stop snivelling and come here, Jane,' he cried, encouragingly. 'Lend a
hand to heave this up. If we can get into the house, we might sneak down
without meeting any one, with luck. Come on.'

They heaved up the door till it stood straight up, and, as they bent to
look into the hole below, the door fell back with a hollow clang on the
leads behind, and with its noise was mingled a blood-curdling scream
from underneath.

'Discovered!' hissed Robert. 'Oh, my cats alive!'

They were indeed discovered.

They found themselves looking down into an attic, which was also
a lumber-room. It had boxes and broken chairs, old fenders and
picture-frames, and rag-bags hanging from nails.

In the middle of the floor was a box, open, half full of clothes. Other
clothes lay on the floor in neat piles. In the middle of the piles of
clothes sat a lady, very fat indeed, with her feet sticking out straight
in front of her. And it was she who had screamed, and who, in fact, was
still screaming.

'Don't!' cried Jane, 'please don't! We won't hurt you.'

'Where are the rest of your gang?' asked the lady, stopping short in the
middle of a scream.

'The others have gone on, on the wishing carpet,' said Jane truthfully.

'The wishing carpet?' said the lady.

'Yes,' said Jane, before Robert could say 'You shut up!' 'You must have
read about it. The Phoenix is with them.'

Then the lady got up, and picking her way carefully between the piles of
clothes she got to the door and through it. She shut it behind her, and
the two children could hear her calling 'Septimus! Septimus!' in a loud
yet fr