That was it – there must be a cistern full of collected rainwater up there, which must have sprung a leak – in fact, had probably been encouraged to do so by St.-George or one of his friends, just to create a distraction that might be useful to Jack. The water must be gushing out across the top of the plaster-work, percolating down between the laths, saturating the plaster, which was darkening in several large irregular patches – gathering storm-clouds besetting the French Navy and darkening the sea from robin's-egg blue to a more realistic iron-gray. Gray, and heavy, and no longer flat and smooth – the ceiling was swelling and bulging downwards. In several places around the room, dirty water had begun to spatter down onto the floor. Servants were fetching mops and buckets, but dared not interrupt the Silence.