"Hist!" said Waller. "Didn't I hear something?"

Bunny turned to the window, looked out cautiously, and drew in his head again.

"They've come," he whispered. "Now sir, can't you get us down to the back door, so that we can slip away at once?"

"No," said Waller excitedly. "We should have to cross the hall, and they'd be there."

"I'm all right," said Bunny. "I can slip down easier than I got up. What about this here young gentleman? He won't find it so easy with that there canvas on."

"No," cried Waller. "He couldn't get down. I don't believe I could. What in the world are we to do?"

"Ar'n't got a bit of rope, I suppose, sir?" whispered Bunny.

"Yes, of course. I'd forgotten."

"Strong un?"

"The new one I got for the fishing-net," said Waller.

"That'll do it. Now then, let me look out while you get it. You make it fast to the big window-bar while I just try and see what they are doing. I want to make sure that they all go in and leave the way clear for us to slide down. Once we can get to the woods we shall be all right."

"Make sure," whispered Waller, "that they don't leave a sentry by the porch."

Bunny grunted, and as silently as he could Waller took his coil of rope from the drawer, fastened it again to the beam, and, as soon as the man drew in his head, prepared to lower it down.

"It's all right, my lad. Be quick. Some of them has gone round to the back, and your gal Bella has just let t'others in by the front door. Here, I'll go down first to see if the rope's safe, and ready to knock over any of them sojers if he tries to stop us. The young gent had better come next, and you last. You'll have to leave the rope to get back after you have seen us a bit on the way. But hold hard a minute. How long is that rope?"

"About thirty yards," said Waller.

"Here, let me get at it," said Bunny, and, rapidly unfastening it, he ran it through his hands till he could put the two ends together to get its measurement, and then, passing an end on either side of the upright division of the window, he lowered it down till the bight came in contact with the upright bar. "There you are;" he whispered; "twice as strong; and when we are all down I can haul on one end and bring it after us to hide it somewheres in the wood so as it shan't give you away."

"Capital!" whispered Waller, hurrying to the window, thrusting out his head, and listening, to find all still. "No one there," he whispered again, "so down with you."

Bunny gave a grunt, took hold of the rope, and as he was squeezing himself out to stand with his feet in the gutter. Waller caught hold of his friend's hand, gave it a grip, and then crept to the door, turned the key softly, opened it and listened there, to hear the murmur of voices down in the hall.

He turned the key again and darted back to the window, to feel the rope quivering for a few moments and then slacken.

Bunny was at the bottom.

"Now can I help you?" whispered Waller.

"No," was the reply. "I can manage." But Waller's heart beat fast and a strange choking sensation seemed to rise in his breast as the boy, hampered by his stiff petticoat-trousers, had no little difficulty in getting clear of the window.

The next minute he was letting himself glide down, rustling loudly through the ivy.

Waller waited, leaning half out of the window and gazing down till he was satisfied that his companion was nearly at the bottom, when he hurried back to the door, unlocked it and withdrew the key, and then, opening, he felt for the hole and thrust the key in on the outer side.

"There," he muttered; "when they come up here, they won't suspect me."

It was his turn now, and, full of activity, he crept out of the window and stood for a moment amongst the ivy in the gutter, and then began to slide so quickly down the double rope that his hands were ready to burn. As he touched the soft earth he felt Bunny thrust him aside and take hold of one end of the rope.

"You haul steadily," he whispered; and as the lad drew on the rope the big country fellow laid it in rings at his feet. "Mind your head," he whispered, "when t'other end falls."

But Waller was on his guard, and as the end glided round the upright of the window-frame and came rustling down through the ivy, it just touched the lad's protecting arm, and that was all.

"I'll hide this here somewhere, where I can find it again," whispered Bunny. "You won't want to go in again that way when there's the doors."

As the last ring was formed of the rope and caught up by the rough gipsy-looking fellow, they stood listening to the sound of voices, which came loudly from within, two of those present recognising the husky, throaty speech of the village constable, and Waller set it down to questioning as to where he was.

Directly after, at a word from Bunny, they stepped off the bed on to the soft turf, just as there was the rattle of a lock, the big door was thrown open, and a bright bar of light flashed across the lawn, while clump, clump, came the heavy footsteps of a couple of the soldiers marching through the porch.

To go on seemed to Waller like courting danger; to stand still suggested the certainty of being seen; and giving Godfrey a thrust, he pressed onward, risking all, and following Bunny, who was hurrying in the direction of the forest.

Over and over again Waller felt certain that they must be seen by the two men, whom he could make out as he glanced back, standing against the light that came through the porch, and he could hardly believe in their good fortune, as neither shout nor shot was sent in their direction, while a few minutes later they were threading their way amongst the trees.



CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

THE ESCAPE.

"Well, so far so good," said Bunny softly. "We are not likely to meet anybody in the hevenue, Master Waller, so that's the best going, and we will keep to that."

"The soldiers will be all up at the Manor, but suppose anybody else is coming up from the village?"

"If they was I should 'ear them, sir, before they 'eard me. We will step out, and when you think it best, Master Waller, you turn back, and make yourself easy. I'll see young squire here safe aboard brother Jem's boat some time to-morrow, so you had better say good-bye pretty sharp so as to be ready to slip off when you like. But what about that there money? Shall I tell brother Jem as I have it ready for him and his mates when he's set young squire here safe across?"

"Yes, of course," cried Waller.

"Pst!" whispered the man. "In among the trees!" and he caught hold of Godfrey's hand, dragging him through the bracken and bush, while in his excitement Waller took cover on the other side of the winding way.

For all at once he was conscious of the flashing of two lights and the dull rattle of wheels coming through the deep sand of the road.

Directly after the lights were illumining the big trunks of the fine old trees through which the track ran, and the boy's heart beat all the faster as through the open window of the post-chaise he caught a glimpse of the grey, stern-looking head of him whom he had expected so long.

"Father!" he breathed to himself, and he stood gazing after the chaise till it had passed round another curve and the last gleam of the lights had disappeared. "Pst!" he whispered. "Bunny! Did you see that!"

There was no reply, not a sound but the faint whirr of the wheels growing fainter moment by moment, and, confident now that he could not be seen, the boy left the shelter of the trees, crossed the road, and entered those on the other side beyond the broad strip of grass.

"Bunny!" he whispered again with no result, and then three times over at intervals he hazarded the call of an owl; but in vain. Then, after hurrying for a short distance in the direction he felt that his companions must have taken, he was brought up short in a clump of brambles, and, feeling the madness of attempting to follow farther, he began to think.

"I must trust to Bunny getting him safely off, whether I will or not," he muttered. "Oh, but he's sure to get him aboard, and I had not reckoned on this. Father is up at the porch door by now, to find the soldiers searching the place, and the first thing he will say will be, 'Where is Waller?'"

The next minute the boy was trotting steadily back towards the Manor, trusting more to instinct than to sight in avoiding the trees.

"And I never said good-bye!" he kept on muttering. "I never said good-bye!"

Then all at once he stopped short, panting hard, partly from exertion, partly from excitement, for the thought came strong upon him now of his father.

"He will ask me," he panted, "where I have been; and what am I to say?"

An end to the boy's musings was put by the returning post-chaise, whose wheels he heard far ahead, and as soon as it had passed he hurried on along the road; but before he had gone far he took to cover again, for voices were approaching him in the darkness, one of which, loud and threatening, Waller recognised at once as that of the sergeant in command of the search-party.

He was talking in a menacing tone, and the reply came in a husky, petulant voice, plainly that of the village constable, while directly after there was a chorus of laughter.

Waller shrank farther back amongst the trees, and stood thinking much of his friend's escape, of this second fruitless mission of the soldiery, but, above all, of that which was before him, for, as he hurried on, there, straight before him, his father's stern countenance seemed to rise out of the darkness to look at him with questioning eyes.

The rest of the journey back he saw nothing, heard nothing, thought of nothing, but that stern, questioning face. In fact, later on it seemed to the lad as if there had been a blank until he found himself standing in the well-lit dining-room, listening to his father's words.

These were very few, the principal being comprised in the question, very shortly and sharply uttered—

"Well, Waller, my boy, where have you been?"

The next minute the tired traveller was sitting back in the big armchair, his brow resting upon one hand, which shaded his face from the young speaker, who slowly, and without a moment's hesitation, spoke out frankly and related all that has been told here.

"Well," said the Squire, as his son ended his narrative, "I am a magistrate, my boy, and it would have been my duty if I had been here to give up that lad to those who sought him. I was not here, and you acted upon the promptings of your own breast. Well, my boy, I have had a long and slow journey down; I am very tired, and I was not prepared for such a business as this. It is late, and beyond your time for bed; quite mine, too. And so this young French Englishman whom you have sheltered is on his way with that fellow Wrigg to Loo Creek, where he is to join a lugger, and be set ashore at Cherbourg?"

"Yes, father. But you will not send the soldiers in chase of him now?"

"Not to-night, my boy," was the reply, "for I am too worn out and weary for anything but bed. I will sleep upon it and see what I think is my duty on the subject to-morrow morning."

"Ah," thought Waller Froy, as he went slowly up, candle in hand, to the room from which his prisoner had so lately escaped; and his first act was to pick up the jacket Godfrey Boyne had thrown upon the floor.

"Why, I needn't have minded," said Waller to himself. "It's my jacket that I lent him; and I feel so comfortable and easy now that dad knows all. There, I believe I can sleep better to-night than I have for a month."

He descended to his bedroom, feeling rather sad, though, as he thought of his late companion's journey through the darkness of the night.

Then, as he slowly undressed and laid his head upon the pillow, he had one more wandering thought:

"Will father do anything more about that poor fellow Boyne?"

The next minute Waller Froy had ceased to think, and thought no more till he opened his eyes upon the light of another bright autumn morning.

"Father said he would sleep upon it. What will he say to me when we meet?" And then another question flashed through his brain: "France isn't so very far away; I wonder whether Godfrey Boyne and I will ever meet again?"

THE END