_Mr. Toppel_ (_calmly_). A basement will do very well. (_To the
sixteen Masked Men_). You will probably find Lord ESHER somewhere
about Chancery Lane. Impress on him that our fee in his case is a
thousand guineas; _or_--both ears lopped off! [_Exeunt the Sixteen._

_First Junior_. I went upstairs just now, in order to see how our
distinguished prisoners were getting on. The CHANCELLOR, I regret to
say, seemed dissatisfied with the bread and water supplied to him, and
asked for "necessaries suitable to his status." He appeared inclined
to argue the point; so I had to gag him again.

_Mr. Toppel_. Quite right. You might have told him that he is now
governed by the _lex loci_, and that we shall reluctantly have to send
little pieces of him to his friends--I believe that is the "common
form" in brigand circles--if he persists in refusing the ransom. How
does the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE bear it?

_Second Junior_. Not well. The attic window is, fortunately, barred,
but I found him trying to--in fact, to _disbar_ it--(_laughter_)--and
to attract the attention of a passer-by. He is now secured by a chain
to a strong staple.

_Mr. Toppel_. I suppose he is not disposed to make the assignment to
us of half his yearly salary, which we suggested?

_Second Junior_. Not yet. He even threatens, when liberated, to bring
our conduct under the notice of the Benchers.

_Mr. Toppel_ (_grimly_). Then he must never be liberated! It's no
good beginning this method of what I may call, in technical language,