aw, portions of which I allowed to protrude at all the apertures. A
suitable stiffness was imparted to the limbs by pieces of stick poked up
inside the clothing, and smaller sticks gave the correct, starfish-like
spread to the gloved hands. When they were finished, the illusion was
perfect. As the two effigies sat on the floor with their backs against
the wall, stiff, staring, bloated and grotesquely horrible, not a soul
would have suspected them.

"I carried the male guy down to the yard, sat him on the barrow and put
on his hat; and taking with me the remains of the ruined guys, which I
decided to put away in the drawers, I returned for the second effigy. I
lashed the two figures very securely to the standards, fixed on their
hats firmly, and attached their name-cards. Then I went into the shop to
attend to my own appearance.

"I had brought back from my Bloomsbury house the shabby overcoat and
battered hat that I had worn on the last few expeditions. These I now
assumed; and having fixed on my cheek a large cross of
sticking-plaster--which pulled down my eyebrow and pulled up the corner
of my mouth--begrimed my face, reddened my nose, and carefully tinted in
a not too emphatic black eye, I was sufficiently transmogrified to
deceive even my intimate friends. Now I was ready to start; and now was
the critical moment.

"I went out into the yard, unlocked the gate, trundled the barrow out
into the alley, and locked the gate behind me. At the moment there was
not a soul in sight, but from the street close by came the unmistakable
murmur of a large crowd. I must confess that I felt a little nervous.
The next few minutes would decide my fate.

"I grasped the handles of the barrow and started forward resolutely. As
I rounded the curve of the alley, a densely-packed throng appeared
ahead. Faces turned towards me and broke into grins; the murmur rose
into a dull roar, and, as the people drew aside to make way for me, I
plunged into the heart of the throng and raised my voice in a husky
chant:

"'Remember, remember the Fifth of November,
The Gunpowder Treason and Plot.'

"Through the interstices of the crowd I could see the soldiers still
drawn up by the curb and even the machine gun was yet in position.
Suddenly the inspector and the sergeant appeared bustling through the
crowd. The former caught sight of me and, waving his hand angrily,
shouted:

"'Take that thing away from here! Move him out of the crowd, Molone