It was our unconventional author,
however, who was the first to volunteer his assistance and advice.
"No use pushing, Thornaby!" cried he. "If it's been done with a
wedge and gimlet, you may smash the door, but you'll never force it.
Is there a ladder in the place?"
"There's a rope-ladder somewhere, in case of fire, I believe," said
my lord vaguely, as he rolled a critical eye over our faces. "Where
is it kept, Leggett?"
"'William will fetch it, my lord."
And a pair of noble calves went flashing to the upper regions.
"What's the good of bringing it down," cried Parrington, who had
thrown back to the wilds in his excitement. "Let him hang it out
of the window above your own, and let me climb down and do the
rest! I'll undertake to have one or other of these doors open in
two twos!"
The fastened doors were at right angles on the landing which we
filled between us. Lord Thornaby smiled grimly on the rest of us,
when he had nodded and dismissed the author like a hound from the
leash.
"It's a good thing we know something about our friend Parrington,"
said my lord.
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