"H'm," said Strickland; and his voice rolled and rumbled in the roof. "There's
room for another set of rooms up here, and, by Jove! some one is occupying em."
"Snakes?" I said down below.
"No. It's a buffalo. Hand me up the two first joints of a masheer rod, and I'll
prod it. It's lying on the main beam."
I handed up the rod.
"What a nest for owls and serpents! No wonder the snakes live here," said
Strickland, climbing further into the roof. I could see his elbow thrusting
with the rod. "Come out of that, whoever you are! Look out! Heads below there!
It's tottering."
I saw the ceiling-cloth nearly in the centre of the room bag with a shape that
was pressing it downward and downward toward the lighted lamps on the table. I
snatched a lamp out of danger and stood back. Then the cloth ripped out from
the walls, tore, split, swayed, and shot down upon the table something that I
dared not look at till Strickland had slid down the ladder and was standing by
my side.
He did not say much, being a man of few words, but he picked up the loose end
of the table-cloth and threw it over the thing on the table.
"It strikes me," said he, pulling down the lamp, "our friend Imray has come
back. Oh! you would, would you?"
There was a movement under the cloth, and a little snake wriggled out, to be
back-broken by the butt of the masheer rod.
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