Girdelstone and Monteagle to keep out of the way, as it would only upset
them. Various dons came up and chaffed me about the opposition I made to
the MS. being purchased. A little man of dark, sallow complexion asked
me if I was Professor Girdelstone. He wanted to obtain leave to examine
the MS. I gave him my card, and asked him to call on me, when I would
arrange a suitable day. He told me he was a Lutheran pastor from
Pomerania.

I was the last to leave the museum that afternoon. I often remained in
the library long after five, the usual closing hour. So I dismissed the
attendants who locked up everything with the exception of a small door in
the stone gallery always used on such occasions. I waited till six, and
as I went out opened near this door a sash window, having removed the
iron shutters. After dinner I went round to Monteagle's rooms. He and
Girdelstone were sitting in a despondent way on each side of the fire,
sipping weak coffee and nibbling Albert biscuits. They were startled at
my entrance.

'What _have_ you decided?' asked Girdelstone, hoarsely.

'All is arranged. Monteagle and I set fire to the museum to-night,' I
said, quietly.

Girdelstone buried his face in his hands and began to sob.

'Anything but that--anything but that!' he cried. And Monteagle turned a
little pale. At first they protested, but I overcame their scruples by
saying they might get out of the mess how they liked. I advised
Girdelstone to go to bed and plead illness for the next few days, for he
really wanted rest. At eleven o'clock that night, Monteagle and myself