“Old me!” said Joe.

“I’ll get on the sill and see what I can do through the top o’ the window.”

He got up, and, held by the gardener, put his arm through.  There was the sound of considerable disturbance, and through the barking of Blink, Mr. Lavender’s voice was heard again:  “Stanch in the middle of the cataclysm, unruffled by the waters of heaven and hell, let us be captains of our souls.  Down, Blink, down!”

“He’s out!” said Joe, rejoining the gardener.  “Now for it, before my missis comes!” and he ran into the house.

Mr. Lavender was walking dazedly in the hall with the journals held out before him.

“Joe,” he said, catching sight of his servant, “get the car ready.  I must be in five places at once, for only thus can we defeat the greatest danger which ever threatened the future of civilization.”

“Right-o, sir,” replied Joe; and, waiting till his master turned round, he seized him round the legs, and lifting that thin little body ascended the stairs, while Mr. Lavender, with the journals waving fanlike in his hands, his white hair on end, and his legs kicking, endeavoured to turn his head to see what agency was moving him.

At the top of the stairs they came on Mrs. Petty, who, having Scotch blood in her veins, stood against the wall to let them pass, with a hot bottle in either hand.  Having placed Mr. Lavender in his bed and drawn the clothes up to his eyes, Joe Petty passed the back of his hand across his brow, and wrung it out.

“Phew!” he gasped; “he’s artful!”

His wife, who had followed them in, was already fastening her eyes on the carpet.

“What’s that?” she said, sniffing.

“That?” repeated Joe, picking up his pipe; “why, I had to run to ketch ‘im, and it fell out o’ me pocket.”

“And lighted itself,” said Mrs. Petty, darting, at the floor and taking up a glowing quid which had burned a little round hole in the carpet.  “You’re a pretty one!”

“You can’t foresee those sort o’ things,” said Joe.

“You can’t foresee anything,” replied his wife; “you might be a Government.  Here! hold the clothes while I get the bottles to his feet.  Well I never!  If he hasn’t got——­” And from various parts of Mr. Lavender’s body she recovered the five journals.  “For putting things in the wrong place, Joe Petty, I’ve never seen your like!”

“They’ll keep ’im warm,” said Joe.

Mr. Lavender who, on finding himself in bed, had once more fallen into a comatose condition, stirred, and some words fell from his lips.  “Five in one, and one in five.”

“What does he say?” said Mrs. Petty, tucking him up.

“It’s the odds against Candelabra for the Derby.”

“Only faith,” cried Mr. Lavender, “can multiply exceedingly.”

“Here, take them away!” muttered Mrs. Petty, and dealing the journals a smart slap, she handed them to Joe.

“Faith!” repeated Mr. Lavender, and fell into a doze.