A Roman chariot race followed, as a variety, and afterwards some trick riding by ladies accompanied by a jazz band to which the elephant played the drum. It was all clever and amusing, yet everybody smiled when the funny man, after a short interval for rest, made his reappearance in the circle. He seemed indefatigable, and his limbs might have been made of india-rubber by the way he jumped and bounced and pranced about. This time he was to give a performance on the trapeze, and he ran up the ladder as easily as a monkey, cracking out many jokes. He swung on the trapeze, and turned somersaults, and hung by his heels and did other hair-raising experiments, always ending with his usual "no harm done this time". Then he commenced to swing himself backwards and forwards for an enormous leap on to another trapeze. He accomplished it safely, and turned to make the bound back again. But either the rope was faulty, or for once his nerve deserted him, or he miscalculated his distance, for, instead of landing lightly upon the pole, he missed it, and fell down, down on to the edge of the net, and off again on to the ground below. For an instant the audience thought it was part of the performance, and that he would bounce up with one of his merry jokes. But this time there was harm done. Instead of springing to his feet he lay limp and quiet among the sawdust in the ring. There was a buzz of horror from the spectators as two of the gymnasts ran in with a stretcher and hastily removed him. Many could not bear to look at any more and left the tent, though the manager made a short speech and begged people to remain for the rest of the programme, bringing on the ponies, and causing them to run and jump round the circle. Miss Pollard and her girls felt they had seen enough, and withdrew quietly, very much upset at the horrible accident. Mavis and Merle, running home with the news, found Dr. Tremayne just starting for the cottage hospital, whither the unfortunate clown had been carried from the circus. Jessop was helping to hunt out splints, bandages, &c., and hastily packing them into the car. "Here's a pretty business," said Uncle David. "I hear the poor chap's badly hurt. I've an urgent call to Bragdon--man in an epileptic fit--but he'll have to wait till I've attended to this case first. It's a mercy I hadn't started. Jessop, where's the chloroform bottle? Put it here in my bag, please! If I want anything else I'll send someone over with a message. You know where the other splints are? Good! Telephone to Mrs. Goodwin that I can't possibly see her till to-morrow, but she must go on taking the medicine, and if Johnson's boy comes with a message, keep him till I get back." And Dr. Tremayne, having collected all the various things he considered he was likely to need, jumped into his car, and departed to the cottage hospital on his errand of help, a very real angel of mercy though clad in twentieth-century garments.