Seven and three quarters P.M. arrived.  The people in the hall began to stamp with a noise like thunder.  Tiffles had marked the heavy boots of the conductor, and could recognize them in the din.  Several deep hisses varied the monotony of the performance.  There were no persons coming up stairs.  The small boys, Tiffles observed with astonishment, had vacated the building some time before, and could now be heard whispering quietly around the door below.

CHAPTER VI.

HUMOUS OF THE MANY-HEADED.

Tiffles knew that his time had come, and he accepted the crisis.

Requesting Marcus to pocket the funds, shut up the shop, and leave the door to take care of itself, Tiffles marched boldly to his doom.  Previous to extinguishing the candles in the exhibition hall, he went behind the curtain, and there found the idiot sitting patiently at the crank, and rehearsing, in a low tone, the code of signals which had been adopted.  Patching was also there.  He shrugged his shoulders in the French style as Tiffles came in, but said not a word.  Tiffles proceeded straight to a bottle which stood on a window sill, and took a long drink from it, and then passed it to Patching, who mutely did the same, and, in turn, handed it to the idiot, who pulled at it with great gusto, in the manner of a rational person.

Feeling that it would be superfluous to repeat his instructions to so sagacious an idiot, Tiffles immediately presented himself before the audience again, with a long stick, or wand, for pointing out the beauties of the panorama.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am about to exhibit to you the Panorama of Africa.  You have all heard of Africa.”

VOICE.  “Consider’ble.”

“True, my friend; therefore you will be well prepared to enjoy the pictorial attractions which I am about to unfold.”

VOICE.  “H’ist the rag.”

“My friend—­who has no doubt paid his quarter—­I respect your request.  The rag is about to be h’isted.  But, before that ceremony is proceeded with, I would ask the gentlemen sitting nearest the candles to be good enough to blow them out.”

Never was request more cheerfully complied with.  There was a scramble of six or seven tall young men to each candle; and, at several of the candles, a brisk but friendly struggle took place between rival aspirants for the privilege.  The room was then in total darkness, save a small gleam which came through the partly opened door from a solitary tallow in the entry, and the dull reflection of the panorama lights through the curtain.

Some of the effects of this sudden extinguishment were extraordinary.  The female seminary all screamed slightly.  The boys’ school all laughed, and several were heard to say, “Prime fun, a’n’t it?” The railroad conductor and his friends coughed fictitiously, and said, “Oh! oh!” “A’n’t you ashamed!” “Look out for pockets!” “Thief in the house!”