Hearing the cry for police repeated, Paul looked about him for
some means of escape. It occurred to him that he had seen a

ladder in the hall leading up to the loft. There he could easily
hide himself until the crowd had dispersed.

Without further reflection, he rushed out through the door by
which he had entered, climbed the ladder, thrust open a

trap-door, and, to his astonishment, found himself under the
wintry sky.

The roof sloped steeply, and he had to balance carefully in order
to avoid sliding down into the midst of the noisy mob of dogs and

street-boys who were laying siege to the door.
With the utmostcaution he crawled along the roof-tree, trembling

lest he should be discovered by some lynx-eyed villain in the
throng of his pursuers. Happily, the broad brick chimney

afforded him some shelter, of which he was quick to take
advantage. Rolling himself up into the smallest possible

compass, he sat for a long time crouching behind the chimney;
while the police were rummaging under the beds and in the closets

of the house, in the hope of finding him.
He had, of course, carefully closed the trap-door by which he had

reached the comparative safety of his present position; and he
could not help chuckling to himself at the thought of having

outwitted the officers of the law.
The crowd outside, after having made night hideous by their

whoops and yells, began, at the end of an hour, to grow weary;
and the dogs being denied entrance to the house, concluded that

they had no further business there, and slunk off to their
respective kennels.

The people, too, scattered, and only a few patient loiterers hung
about the street door, hoping for fresh developments. It seemed

useless to Paul to wait until these provoking fellows should take
themselves away. They were obviously prepared to make a night of

it, and time was no object to them.
It was then that Paul, in his despair, resolved upon a daring

stratagem. Mr. Broby's house was in the same block as that of
the Misses Hansen, only it was at the other end of the block. By

creeping along the roof-trees of the houses, which, happily,
differed but slightly in height, he could reach the Broby house,

where, no doubt, Miss Clara was now waiting for him, full of
impatience.

He did not deliberate long before testing the practicability of
this plan. The tanner Thoresen's house was reached without

accident, although he barely escaped being detected by a small
boy who was amusing himself throwing snow-balls at the chimney.

It was a slow and wearisome mode of locomotion--pushing himself
forward on his belly; but, as long as the streets were deserted,

it was a pretty safe one.
He gave a start whenever he heard a dog bark; for the echoes of

the ear-splitting concert they had given him were yet ringing in
his brain.

It was no joke being a bear, he thought, and if he had suspected
that it was such a serious business, he would not so rashly have

undertaken it. But now there was no way of getting out of it;
for he had nothing on but his underclothes under the bear-skin.

At last he reached the Broby house, and drew a sigh of relief at
the thought that he was now at the end of his journey.

He looked about him for a trap-door by which he could descend
into the interior, but could find none. There was an inch of

snow on the roof, glazed with frost: and if there was a
trap-door, it was securely hidden.

To jump or slide down was out of the question, for he would, in
that case, risk breaking his neck. If he cried for help, the

groom, who was always ready with his gun, might take a fancy to
shoot at him; and that would be still more unpleasant. It was a

most embarrassing situation.
Paul's eyes fell upon a chimney; and the thought flashed through

his head that there was the solution of the difficulty. He
observed that no smoke was coming out of it, so that he would run

no risk of being converted into smoked ham during the descent.
He looked down through the long, black tunnel. It was a great,

spacious, old-fashioned chimney, and abundantly wide enough for
his purpose.

A pleasant sound of laughter and merry voices came to him from
the kitchen below. It was evident the girls were having a

frolic. So, without further ado, Paul Jespersen stuffed his
great hairy bulk into the chimney and proceeded to let himself

down.
There were notches and iron rings in the brick wall, evidently

put there for the convenience of the chimney-sweeps; and he found
his task easier than he had anticipated. The soot, to be sure,

blinded his eyes, but where there was nothing to be seen, that
was no serious disadvantage.

In fact, everything was going as smoothly as possible, when
suddenly he heard a girl's voice cry out:

"Gracious goodness! what is that in the chimney?"
"Probably the chimney-sweep," a man's voice answered.

"Chimney-sweep at this time of night!"
Paul, bracing himself against the walls, looked down and saw a

cluster of anxious faces all gazing up toward him. A candle
which one of the girls held in her hand showed him that the

distance down to the hearth was but short; so, to make an end of
their uncertainty, he dropped himself down--quietly, as he

thought, but by the force of his fall blowing the ashes about in
all directions.

A chorus of terrified screams greeted him. One girl fainted, one
leaped up on a table, and the rest made for the door.

And there sat poor Paul, in the ashes on the hearth, utterly
bewildered by the consternation he had occasioned. He picked

himself up by and by, rubbed the soot out of his eyes with the
backs of his paws, and crawled out upon the floor.

He had just managed to raise himself upon his hind-legs, when an
awful apparition became visible in the door, holding a candle.

It was now Paul's turn to be frightened. The person who stood
before him bore a close resemblance to the devil.

"What is all this racket about?" he cried, in a tone of
authority.

Paul felt instantly relieved, for the voice was that of his
revered chief, Mr. Broby, who, he now recollected, was to figure

at the masquerade as Mephistopheles. Behind him peeped forth the
faces of his two daughters, one as Morning and the other as

Spring.
"May I ask what is the cause of this unseemly noise?" repeated

Mr. Broby, advancing to the middle of the room. The light of his
candle now fell upon the huge bear whom, after a slight start, he

recognized as a masker.
"Excuse me, Mr. Broby," said Paul, "but Miss Clara did me the

honor----"
"Oh yes, papa," Miss Clara interrupted him, stepping forth in all

her glory of tulle and flowers; "it is Paul Jespersen, who was
going to be my Beast."

"And it is you who have frightened my servants half out of their
wits, Jespersen?" said Mr. Broby, laughing.

"He tumbled down through the chimney, sir," declared the cook,
who had half-recovered from her fright.

"Well," said Mr. Broby, with another laugh, "I admit that was a