Like a cat he lighted on the parapet above us, and stumbled forward with the impetus right on our heads.
'We are safe for the moment,' he whispered, 'but when they miss me they will return.

We must make good haste.' The next half-hour was a maze of twists and turns, slipping down icy roofs and climbing icier chimney-stacks.

The stir of the city had gone, and from the black streets below came scarcely a sound.

But always the great tattoo of guns beat in the east.

Gradually we descended to a lower level, till we emerged on the top of a shed in a courtyard.