FLIGHT.
In the passage--Past the last door--Somebody coming--Across the lawn--A
footstep--The doctor!
As luck would have it, Harry's bed was near the door. If he could but
get out of the dormitory unobserved by the boys, that would be at least
one rung mounted on the ladder of escape. He was fully dressed, his
boots only being unlaced. So taking them off, he crept towards the
door, and waiting cautiously, hidden by the now-welcome darkness, till
a fresh noisy onset was made by his assailants on the bed where they
supposed him to be, he stealthily lifted the latch and stood on the
stairs. He was not long creeping down to the first landing--a narrow
carpeted passage, full of numerous doors, and terminating in a window
which looked over a shed where the boots and knives, etc., were
cleaned. The stairs which led below, joined those of No. 7 dormitory
at one end of the passage, exactly opposite to the window, the distance
from the window to the stairs being about ten yards. When Harry left
his room he had not the least notion how he was going to accomplish his
purpose. He had only a vague idea that he was running away; and it was
not till he alighted at the end of the passage mentioned, and saw from
the other end the moonlight streaming in through the curtainless
window, that it entered his head that there he might find means of
escape.
So he stole cautiously along the passage, nervous, excited, fearing
lest he should disturb any of the sleepers in the various rooms he
passed. The whole place was so still, he could almost hear his heart
thumping. The only thing besides that stirred the silence was the
subdued monotonous snoring from the rooms. A waft of fresh summer
night-air made his heart leap with delight and eagerness. The window
was open. The rest seemed easy.
The last door was passed, and he stood at the ledge looking out into
the moonlight. How quiet everything was! Far off, across the
playground, he saw a few lights burning in the different masters'
houses; but the Doctor's, in a wing of which he was, was quite dark.
Of course, he remembered, the Doctor was out. How fortunate! and the
kitchen-windows looked the other way. The roof of the boot-house was
about six feet below the window-ledge. At the corner stood a
water-butt, and, against that, a large empty box turned up on end.
Everything appeared to be put there to further his escape. The
boot-house stood in a yard, which opened into Dr Palmer's garden, and
from that he knew escape would be easy enough.
He had just tied his boots together, and by the aid of his
pocket-handkerchief dropped them on the roof. His hands were already
on the window-ledge, and one leg over, when he heard a footstep on the
stairs below. What should he do? To stay as he was, motionless, would
be fatal. He was full in the moonlight. To crouch down in the corner,
where the moonlight did not shine, might possibly screen him. Not a
second was to be lost. His resolution was formed. Over went the other
leg; and, hanging with his fingers to the outside of the window-ledge,
afraid to drop to the roof lest the noise should be heard, he clung
trembling, while he heard the step ascending to the top dormitory. He
must be off,--right away, in a few minutes; for it would not now be
long before he was missed. Down he dropped the remaining distance,
picked up his boots, scrambled down the water-butt, on to the box, and
there he was safe on the ground at last. The gate from the yard into
the doctor's garden was always open. He ran noiselessly through, on
his bootless feet, into the garden, and across the lawn; and, skirting
along where the laurels cast a dark pathway of shadow over the moonlit
grass, he made for a corner of the garden-wall, near which the high
road ran, and which some few days ago he had noticed was either lower
than elsewhere, or somewhat tumbled down. Into the laurels he darted,
and soon found the spot he wished; and, then knowing he was quite
hidden, and, moreover, in a place where no one would dream of searching
for him, he sat down to regain his breath; and, as he put on his boots,
listened eagerly to catch the slightest sound that might warn him that
his absence was discovered. Nor was it more than two or three minutes
before he heard voices in the playground, and the unlocking of various
doors, and lights shone suddenly in several windows.
[Illustration: "There he was, safe on the ground at last."--WILTON
SCHOOL, page 98]
No more waiting was to be thought of. He must go on, if he meant
really to escape; or be caught, and so have all the trouble and fright
for nothing, or at least not for nothing. He knew if he were caught,
his stay at school would only be a very short one; and better anything
than be caned, and afterwards expelled.
So he scrambled up the garden-wall, and his eyes brightened as he saw
the hard, highroad that would lead him away from this place of torture.
To right the road ran down towards the village: to left it led to the
school, and to the entrance of Doctor Palmer's house; and, further on,
to the neighbouring town.
He was preparing to jump down, when again the sound of a footstep
checked and terrified him. If it were coming up from the village, the
passer-by would of course see him. If it were coming from the school,
the same result would be fatal to him. The only hope was, that it was
a retreating step of some one who had passed while his attention was
drawn off by the noise of those who were searching for him.
He stretched out his head and looked down the road. No one there. So
far he was safe. He looked up the road; and there was a well-known
figure, magnified and looking very gaunt in the moonlight. It was the
Doctor. But--and Harry could scarcely believe his eyes for joy--he was
going away from where his runaway pupil crouched trembling on the wall.
He must have passed just before he climbed up. The Doctor seemed to be
walking so perversely slow, actually strolling, Harry thought. When
would he turn the corner?
Fainter, however, grew the footsteps, and at length the portly figure
disappeared. And then, jumping hastily from the wall, with a slip on
to the road, and scrambling to pick himself up, Harry ran as hard as
his legs would carry him down towards Wilton village.