"They are—" he looked downward again before answering—"yes, they are holding the ladder for me. Coming, gentlemen!" he called out. "We'll all be down in a jiffy."
"Before we go any farther," said Trotter seriously, "I should like to know just what the charge is against me."
"Beg pardon?"
"The charge. What are you going to chuck me into prison for?"
"Prison? My God, sir! Who said anything about prison?" gasped Mr. Chambers, staring wide-eyed at the young man.
Trotter leaned forward, his face a study in emotions. Lady Jane uttered a soft little cry.
"Then,—then they haven't trumped up some rotten charge against me?"
"They? Charge? I say!" He bellowed the last to the supporters below. "Hold this bally thing steady, will you? Do you want me to break my neck?"
"Well, don't jiggle it like that," came the voice of Mr. Bramble from below. "We can't hold it steady if you're going to dance on it."
Mr. Chambers once more directed his remarks to Mr. Trotter.