"Indeed, sir, we never expected you.

We expected--" His speech was cut short by a fresh noise outside--this time the real enemy, who, little guessing what was going on within, halted a moment outside before commencing proceedings.

Then, with a simultaneous war- whoop, they half-opened the door, and, without entering themselves, projected into the centre of the room--a bottle! Pilbury and Cusack had not studied natural science for nothing! The strange projectile smashed to atoms as it fell, and at the same instant there arose a stench the like of which the nose of Willoughby had never known before.
Mr Parrett and the boys choked and made a dash for the door, but the enemy were hanging on to the handle in full force, and it was at least two minutes before the almost suffocated Parson could gasp, "Open the door! do you hear?
Mr Parrett's here; let him out." "Won't wash, my boy!" cried a mocking voice--"won't wash! Wait a bit, we've got another bottle for you when you're quite ready!" "Let me out, boys!" cried Mr Parrett as well as he could for choking and holding his nose.
"Tell you it won't wash, my boy!" cried the insulting voice outside.
"Try again! Have a little more sulphuretted hydrogen.

Jolly stuff, isn't it?
Hold on, you fellows, while I chuck it in!" The idea of another bottle was more than any one could endure.
Mr Parrett groaned and cleared his throat for another summons, but Parson was before him.
"I say," cried he, in positively piteous tones, "we give in.

I'll apologise, anything--do you hear ?" "Eh--go down on your knees, then," cried the enemy.
"I am," said Parson.
"Is he?
the rest of you?
is he on his knees?
both of them ?" "Yes, he is," cried Bosher.