holding on by the bars with her arms behind her. He let himself down by
his hands till within two or three feet of the roof, and dropped safely
upon it. Then he stood up, facing her just below, braced himself with
one foot on each side of the ridge, and told her to loosen her hold and
let herself fall forward. She did so, and he caught her in his arms as
she fell.

It was a struggle for a minute to keep his balance; and whether in the
involuntary stress of the effort, or by an instinctive impulse,
conscious or otherwise, he clasped her close for a moment, till her face
touched his own. Then he put her down, and they sat on the ridge near
each other, flushed, and short of breath. Below, on the lawn, a throng
of people looked up at them, some motionless, some gesticulating, and
some shouting in dumb show, their voices drowned in the fierce roar and
crackling that raged beneath the roof and shut in the two above it in a
kind of visible privacy. They were still a while; then Agnes asked: "Can
we do anything more?"

"No," he answered, "nothing but wait."

Both saw that men were running for ladders and ropes. Presently he asked
quietly:

"Why did you come to me?"

She looked up at him for a moment, then answered:

"I suppose I thought you would know what to do."

"Thank you," he said, in a grave, low voice.