PHŒBE. (running to door) Ah! uncle has heard my cries for help, and he’s coming up; and I declare he’s got a policeman with him!—hide, hide yourself!
TRIPTOLE. Where—where? here’s a clothes basket, but it isn’t big enough.
JONATH. (without) This way, policeman.
(noise of steps up staircase heard—TRIPTOLEMUS dreadfully frightened begins getting out of window)
PHŒBE. Mind what you’re about! you’ll slip off the slanting roof and be smashed to bits! (by this time TRIPTOLEMUS has got out of the window) Where are you going?
TRIPTOLE. I don’t know. (begins getting into the other chimney pot)
PHŒBE. (looking out after him) Mercy on me! what is he about? he’s getting legs first into a chimney pot! Stop, stop, you’ll drop into our third floor!
TRIPTOLE. (without) I don’t care! (disappears—then suddenly shouting) Holloa! I’m stuck fast!—help!
At this moment JONATHAN runs on at door, L. C., followed by a POLICEMAN—PHŒBE hastily draws curtain before the window—(this will give time to strike the slanting roof)
JONATH. Now, then, what’s the matter?