"Now there is a scramble over the roof-tops. You climb up pipes, slide down slates, leap across spaces between separate houses, cling to coping stones, and all that sort of thing."
"I grasp the idea," said Percy.
"At last Bill is seized with a notion. He throws himself on to the telephone wires, and, hanging by his hands, manages to convey himself across to the houses on the opposite side of the road. You imitate him. As Bill arrives on the other side, he turns and cuts the wires on which you are crossing. Before the ends of the wires fall, however, you turn a quick somersault and land beside Bill. Once more there is a race over the roofs until Bill reaches a factory chimney. Down the shaft he dives. So do you. Into the furnace below, then out of it, the chase continues—it doesn't pause for a moment."
"Not a moment," echoed Percy as in a trance.
"Yes, it does, for you and Bill have dragged out of the furnace some of the burning coal; this has caught some inflammable material, and soon the whole factory is alight. Now you rush round to alarm the workers. And what do you find? Mignon! She had gone out into the world to earn her own bread, and had found employment in this factory. The manager of the factory, an arch villain, had noted Mignon's beauty, and just as you arrive he is dragging her away. You snatch Mignon from his grasp. At that moment Bill comes up, takes in the situation, seizes the treacherous manager, and flings him into the devouring flames. Then Bill assists you to carry Mignon through the suffocating smoke out to safety, but as you disappear the now dying manager draws his revolver and fires after you. You are struck by the bullet, but bear up until, with Bill's help, you have brought Mignon out of danger. Then you faint away."
"Not till then?" said Percy.
"No, not till then. The last scene of all will be your wedding at the church. Mignon, of course, is the bride, and Bill is your best man. You see, he retrieved his character by the aid given at the factory fire, and you have forgiven him the murder of his uncle. Oh, and, by the way, you wouldn't have to be really shot at the rehearsals, you know."
"That's fine!" said Percy. "When would you like me to start?"