"Oh, Jack! hurrah! However did you get here?"
"Oh, you have _spotted_ me at last, have you?" said he, with a grim
smile. "I've been here five or ten minutes."
"You have!" exclaimed I.
"Yes. My window opened on to this ledge, too; so I didn't see why I
shouldn't come."
"You might have fallen and killed yourself. But I say, Jack, won't you
come in? Even if we do get caught things can't be much worse than they
are."
"I know that--so I think you'd better come out."
"What for?" exclaimed I, in astonishment.
"To get away--anywhere," said he.
In a moment I was up on the window-sill, scrambling out on to the ledge
beside him. The fresh morning breeze blew on my face as I did so, and a
glorious sense of freedom took hold of both our drooping spirits. We
needed no words. Only let us get free!
"Come along," said Jack, crawling along the narrow ledge which ran round
the top of the house.
"How shall we get down?" I asked.
"That's what I want to find out," said Jack. "Isn't there a water-pipe
or something in front?"
Carefully we made our perilous journey round the side of the house
towards the front. Smith leaned over and peered down.
"Yes," said he, "there's a water-pipe we could easily slide down, if we
could only get at it. Look!"
I looked over too. The ground seemed a long way below, and I felt a
trifle nervous at the prospect of trying to reach it by such unorthodox
means as a water-pipe, even could we get at that pipe. But the ledge on
which we were overhung the side of the house, and the pipe began under
it, just below where we stood.
"We must try, anyhow," said Jack, desperately. "I'll go first; catch
hold of my hands, Fred."
And he was actually going to attempt to scramble over and round under
the ledge, when he suddenly paused, and cried, "Hold hard. I do believe
this bit of ledge is loose!"
So it was. It shook as we stood upon it.
"We might be able to move it," said Jack.
So we knelt down and with all our might tugged away at the stone that
divided us from our water-pipe. It was obstinate at first, but by dint
of perseverance it yielded to pressure at last, and we were able
triumphantly to lift it from its place.
It was easy enough now reaching the pipe. But here a new peril arose.
Sliding down water-pipes is an acquired art, and not nearly as easy as
it seems. Jack, who volunteered to make the first descent, looked a
little blue as he found the pipe was so close to the wall that he
couldn't get his hands round, much less his feet.
"You'll have to grip it hard with your ankles and elbows," he said,
beginning to slide down an inch or two; "and go slow, whatever you do."
It was nervous work watching him, and still more nervous work when at
length I braced myself up to the effort and proceeded to embrace the
slender pipe. How I ever managed to get to the bottom I can't say. I
remember reflecting about half way down that this would be good daily
exercise for the Henniker, and the mere thought of her almost sent me
headlong to the bottom.
At last, however, I stood safe beside my chum on the gravel walk.
"Now!" said he.
"Now," I replied, "where shall we go?"
"London, I think," said he, solemnly as ever, "All right--how many
miles?"
"Eighty or ninety, I fancy--but where's your coat?"
"In the dormitory. I was too much flurried to put it on."
"Never mind, we can use mine turn about. But I wish we'd got boots
instead of slippers."
"So do I," replied I, who even as I stood felt the sharp gravel cutting
my feet; "ninety miles in slippers will be rather rough."
"Never mind," said Jack, "come on."
"Come on," said I.
At that moment, to our dismay and misery, we heard a window above us
stealthily opened, close to the water-pipe, and looking up beheld the
Henniker's head and yellow-and-black body suddenly thrust out.
"Batchelor and Smith--Mr Ladislaw," (here her voice rose to pretty
nearly a shriek)--"Mr Ladislaw! come at once, please--Batchelor and
Smith, running away. Mr Ladislaw, quick! Batchelor and Smith!"
We stood motionless, with no spirit left to fly, until the door was
opened, and Mr Ladislaw, Miss Henniker, and Mr Hashford, all three,
sallied out to capture us.
Among them we were dragged back, faint and exhausted, into Stonebridge
House, all thoughts of freedom, and London, effectually banished from
our heads, and still worse, with the bitter sense of disappointment
added to our other miseries.
Mr Hashford was set to watch us for the rest of the night in the empty
schoolroom. And he had an easy task. For even though he fell asleep
over it, we had no notion of returning to our old scheme. Indeed, I was
shivering so, I had no notion of anything but the cold. Jack made me
put on his coat, but it made very little difference. The form I was on
actually shook with my shivering. Mr Hashford, good soul that he was,
lent me his own waistcoat, and suggested that if we all three sat close
together--I in the middle--I might get warmer. We tried it, and when at
six o'clock that same eventful morning the servant came to sweep the
room she found us all three huddled together--two of us asleep and one
in a fever.
I have only a dim recollection of what happened during the next week or
so. I was during that time the most comfortable boy in all Stonebridge
House. For the doctor came every day, ordered me all sorts of good
things, and insisted on a fire being kept in my room, and no lessons.
And if I wished to see any of my friends I might do so, and on no
account was I to be allowed to fret or be disturbed in mind. I couldn't
help feeling half sorry for Miss Henniker being charged with all these
uncongenial tasks; but Stonebridge House depended a great deal on what
the doctor said of it, and so she had to obey his orders.
I took advantage of the permission to see my friends by requesting the
presence of Smith very frequently. But as the Henniker generally
thought fit to sit in my room at the same time, I didn't get as much
good out of my chum as I might have done. I heard he had had a very
smart flogging for his share of that eventful night's proceedings, and
that another was being saved up for me when I got well.
It was quite a melancholy day for me when the doctor pronounced me
convalescent, and said I might resume my ordinary duties. It was
announced to me at my first appearance in school, that on account of my
delinquencies I was on the "strict silence" rule for the rest of the
term, that my bed was removed to the other dormitory, and that I was
absolutely forbidden to hold any further communication, either by word
or gesture, with my friend Smith.
Thus cheerfully ended my first term at Stonebridge House.