all his bulk, came quickly. Once clear, he dropped
upon his haunches, and knit his fists before him. The position showed him
at his best. Crouched or in motion, the clumsy angles of his body were
forced into relief. As he sat back, the curves softened, and, as far as
brown rat could be, he was imposing. For some moments he sat immovable,
facing the darkness, then he turned, and, with one eye always fixed behind
him, passed slowly out of sight.

There was a long silence after this. The light patch on the floor seemed
to grow in intensity. By its dull reflection, the black rat could just
distinguish his own whiskers. It fascinated him. He stole halfway across
the floor towards it, and paused. As he paused, it was blotted out once
more.

[Illustration: THE POSITION SHOWED HIM AT HIS BEST.]

He was being watched. Before he was back in his corner, three of the enemy
were through the breach. Five more followed. Then in quick confusion a
dozen. Then a dozen more. The Hanoverian army was spreading its wings.

Their actual number he never knew. Perhaps, for the credit of his family,
it was as well. Reflection would assuredly have put resistance, and even
hope, out of the question. As it was, he came forward with absolute
indifference. His breeding again stood him in good stead. Of all the host
he was the least uneasy. In the middle of the floor he stopped abruptly,
confronting the situation. Fifty rats were in the cellar now, and there
was not a rustle among them.

He had calculated exactly where to stop. It was a foot beyond the normal
take-off of the grown rat. He flung his head round, put all the force he
possessed into his hind legs, and leapt, upwards and backwards, towards
the shelf. He caught it with his fore-paws, scrambled on to it, and, for
the moment, was safe. He was only just quick enough. As his eyes turned,
the brown rats had rushed forward, and, even as he clutched the ledge, he
heard them pattering against the wall.

The floor below was a raging sea of rats; rats leaping over one another,
jostling, biting, tearing. To the silence of a moment before had succeeded
a babel of shrieks and hisses. But there were no jumpers among them like
himself. He passed quietly along the ledge above them, through the
entrance of the run, and up to its blocked extremity. There he braced his
back against the concrete and waited.

* * * * *

He waited for three days, his muzzle grounded, his e