noticed the exact spot where descending from the spire ran the narrow flat strip of copper connecting the lightning-conductor with its earth-plate. We sauntered back to that place, where in the angle of the ancient flint wall, beside one of the heavy buttresses the metal strip went straight down into the turf. The copper was much oxidized, for it had been placed there many years ago for the protection of the steeple during thunderstorms.
'We mustn't lose time,' I muttered to Teddy. 'Can you see anybody about?'
'No. All's clear,' he declared. 'I'll watch, while you do it!'
I went quickly across to the wall and at a spot about five feet from the ground behind a big laurel bush I pulled the strip away from the wall with my fingers and worked at it with file and pliers, until I had severed it.
Then, at about a foot nearer the ground, I made a nick in the copper with my file and bent it until it broke, leaving a portion of the conductor about a foot long in my hand. This I at once concealed beneath the bush, while I placed a strip of asbestos cloth against the wall beneath each of the loose ends of the copper conductor, the latter holding the protective cloth in position upon the wall. Then, when I had concluded the work to my satisfaction, I pushed back the shrub so as to conceal as far as possible the damage to the lightning-conductor, and rejoined my friend.
'I'm afraid the rector wouldn't much approve of our work—if he knew,' laughed Teddy, as we returned to the car.
