The keeper felt pleased with himself, and owned himself a bold man when he threw open that door, and, stepping out into the leads, flashed the full light of the stable lantern on the group of desperadoes standing against the parapet on the other side of the tower. He lowered his gun, and he nearly dropped the lantern. "So help me," he cried, "if they ain't a pack of kiddies!" The Vicar now advanced. "How did you come here?" he asked severely. "Tell me at once." "Oh, take us down," said Jane, catching at his coat, "and we'll tell you anything you like. You won't believe us, but it doesn't matter. Oh, take us down!" The others crowded round him, with the same entreaty. All but Cyril. He had enough to do with the soda-water syphon, which would keep slipping down under his jacket. It needed both hands to keep it steady in its place. But he said, standing as far out of the lantern light as possible-- "Please do take us down." So they were taken down. It is no joke to go down a strange church-tower in the dark, but the keeper helped them--only, Cyril had to be independent because of the soda-water syphon. It would keep trying to get away. Half-way down the ladder it all but escaped. Cyril just caught it by its spout, and as nearly as possible lost his footing. He was trembling and pale when at last they reached the bottom of the winding stair and stepped out on to the stones of the church-porch. Then suddenly the keeper caught Cyril and Robert each by an arm. "You bring along the gells, sir," said he; "you and Andrew can manage them." "Let go!" said Cyril; "we aren't running away. We haven't hurt your old church. Leave go!" "You just come along," said the keeper; and Cyril dared not oppose him with violence, because just then the syphon began to slip again. So they were marched into the Vicarage study, and the Vicar's wife came rushing in. "Oh, William, _are_ you safe?" she cried. Robert hastened to allay her anxiety. "Yes," he said, "he's quite safe. We haven't hurt them at all. And please, we're very late, and they'll be anxious at home. Could you send us home in your carriage?" "Or perhaps there's a hotel near where we could get a carriage," said Anthea. "Martha will be very anxious as it is." The Vicar had sunk into a chair, overcome by emotion and amazement. Cyril had also sat down, and was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees because of the soda-water syphon. "But how did you come to be locked up in the church-tower?" asked the Vicar. "We went up," said Robert slowly, "and we were tired, and we all went to sleep, and when we woke up we found the door was locked, so we yelled." "I should think you did!" said the Vicar's wife. "Frightening everybody out of their wits like this! You ought to be ashamed of yourselves." "We _are_," said Jane gently. "But who locked the door?" asked the Vicar. "I don't know at all," said Robert, with perfect truth. "Do please send us home."