From either side of the fireplace hung two bell-ropes, twisted silk
cords of faded crimson with dusty tassels. Mounting on the mantelpiece I
cut the bell-ropes off short where they joined the wire. Testing them I
found them apparently solid--at any rate they must serve. I knotted them
together.

Back to the _cabinet de toilette_ I went to find a suitable object to
which to fasten my rope. There was nothing in the little room save the
washstand, and that was fragile and quite unsuited for the purpose. I
noticed that the window was fitted with shutters on the outside
fastened back against the wall. They had not been touched for years, I
should say, for the iron peg holding them back was heavy with rust and
the shutters were covered with dust. I closed the left-hand shutter and
found that it fastened solidly to the window-frame by means of massive
iron bolts, top and bottom.

Here was the required support for my rope. The poker thrust though the
wooden slips of the shutter held the rope quite solidly. I attached my
rope to the poker with an expert knot that I had picked up at a course
in tying knots during a preposterously dull week I had spent at the base
in France. Then I dragged from the bed the gigantic eiderdown pincushion
and the two massive pillows, stripping off the pillow-slips lest their
whiteness might attract attention whilst they were fulfilling the
unusual mission for which I destined them.

At the window of the _cabinet de toilette_ I listened a moment. All was
silent as the grave. Resolutely I pitched out the eiderdown into the
dark and dirty air shaft. It sailed gracefully earthwards and settled
with a gentle plop on the stones of the tiny yard. The pillows followed.
The heavier thud they would have made was deadened by the billowy mass