He was leaning against the edge of the party-wall, which projected upward about eighteen inches. Close behind him was empty space.
“For God’s sake don’t call him,” said Mother Stolpe, under her breath; “and catch hold of him before he wakes.”
But Otto went straight up to his comrade. “Hullo, mate! Time’s up!” he cried.
“Righto!” said the Vanisher, and he rose to his feet. He stood there a moment, swaying above the abyss, then, giving the preference to the way leading over the roof, he followed in Otto’s track and crept through the window.
“What the dickens were you really doing there?” asked Stolpe, laughing. “Have you been to work?”
“I just went up there and enjoyed the fresh air a bit. Have you got a bottle of beer? But what’s this? Everybody going home already?”
“Yes, you’ve been two hours sitting up there and squinting at the stars,” replied Otto.
Now all the guests had gone. Lasse and the young couple stood waiting to say farewell. Madam Stolpe had tears in her eyes. She threw her arms round Ellen. “Take good care of yourself, the night is so cold,” she said, in a choking voice, and she stood nodding after them with eyes that were blinded with tears.
“Why, but there’s nothing to cry about!” said Mason Stolpe, as he led her indoors. “Go to bed now—I’ll soon sing the Vanishing Man to sleep! Thank God for to-day, mother!”