ail, calling to Petunia. She had
dragged off the piano-cover and was rolling herself up in it. . . .
Then, as the police crashed in, I switched off the lights.

"Somehow or another I hauled Farrell up and on to the flat roof.
'Now,' said I, after prospecting a bit in a hurry, 'the great point
is to keep cool. You follow me over this parapet, lower yourself,
and drop on to the next roof. It's a matter of sixteen feet at most,
and then we'll find a water-pipe.'

"But he wouldn't. He said that he suffered from giddiness on a
height and had done so from the age of sixteen, but that he was game
for any number of policemen. He'd seen too many policemen, and
wanted to reduce the number. I left him clawing at a chimney-pot,
and--well, I told you the stucco was brittle, and you saw the state
of his clothes. I think he must have got out a brick or two and put
up a fight.

"For my part, I slid three-quarters of the way down a pipe, lost my
grip somehow and tumbled sock upon the serried ranks of a brutal and
licentious constabulary. They broke my fall, and afterwards I did my
best. But, as Farrell had justly complained, there were too many of
them. So now you know," Jimmy wound up with a yawn.

"What about the Lady Petunia?" I asked.

"Oh!" He woke up with a start and laughed: "I forgot--and it's the
cream, too. . . . The police who grabbed me had been hastily summoned
by whistle. They rushed me up two side streets and towards a
convenient taxi. It was convenient: it was stationary. . . . It was
my own, own taxi, still sitting. One constable shouted for its
driver; another had almost pushed me in when he started to apologise
to somebody inside. It was Petunia, wrapped in slumber. She must
have slipped out by the Emergency Exit and taken action with great
presence of mind. I don't know if they managed to wake her up, or
what happened to her." Jimmy yawned again. "What's the time, Otty?
It must be any hour of the morning. . . . _I_ don't know. She forgot
to return my watch."

NIGHT THE SEVENTH.

THE OUTRAGE.

Jephson awoke me at 7.30 as usual. But I dozed for another half an
hour and should have dropped asleep again had it not been that some
little thing--I could not put a name to the worry--kept teasing my
brain; some piece of grit in the machine. An engagement forgotten?
an engagement to be kept?--Nothing very important. . . .

Then I remembered, jumped out of bed, and knocked in at Jimmy's r