The creature spat out his vindictiveness in a string of Italian oaths, and Cleek, paying not the slightest attention to him, merely hung on tighter to the ankle and prayed for help. Another few moments of this strain and--the fight would be lost. His arm muscles were strained to their utmost, his whole body upon the rack. He sent forth the summons of the night-owl again and again, and was rewarded by the sound beneath him of a hasty exclamation from the Superintendent, a muttered "My Gawd!" from the hoarse throat of that little bit of Cockneydom who had served him and saved him many times before, and then the whispered words, "Comin', Guv'nor--there in a tick!" came with their ring of comfort, and he exerted himself to the last ounce to retain his hold of the biting, clutching furious Thing that lay twisting itself, save for that unfortunate leg in Cleek's grasp, upon the narrow confines of the ledge of Rhea's bell. .... The moments seemed like hours, and Cleek had all but let go, with a strained wrist and a dislocated finger which was giving him agony, when he saw the dark shape approaching him, and knew that his rescuer had come. "In the nick of time, lad," he breathed, as he released his hold in favour of Dollops. "God knows who the beggar is, but he's like a wild-cat. My hand's done in completely. Hold him and, if you can, get him back again upon this ledge. The pair of us will be too much for him, I vow! Then we'll have to hold on and ring the great bell for help. It's the only way. But we must unmuffle the clapper first. Here--your torch! Gad! _that's_ what the blighter's doing, is he? Unmuffling it for himself!... I say, my Dago friend, keep quiet a little, will you?--or you'll find yourself in the next world in the space of another minute. This isn't a table-top, you know. And there's about two inches between yourself and eternity. And if _you're_ ready to go, I'm not!" The creature thus addressed pulled itself up uncertainly, still muttering in Italian, and as Dollops's hold slid from ankle to knee, from knee to thigh, and then--like a flash--to arm and shoulder, in proper jiu-jitsu grip, whirled round upon them, something white showing in the clenched fingers of one hand, and ground his teeth at them, as though he would eat them alive. "Curse you!--damn you! What are you doing here, hell-hogs!" he spat out in a low, vehement voice. "My friends will be here any minute--and then your game will be up!"