Home > Authors Index > George Manville Fenn > New Forest Spy > This page
The New Forest Spy, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
||
Chapter 11. Weary Of Hiding |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER ELEVEN. WEARY OF HIDING "If he sees me going up and down like this he'll tell me I look like a wild beast in a cage, and he'll be quite right; I do. I feel like one. There are moments when it seems as if I can't bear it. All this dreary wait, wait, wait; all this longing to be out in the fresh air, free. It makes my head throb, and when he comes I could quarrel with him and fight, good chap as he is, so anxious to help me. And then there are the things he brings me. But I can't eat. I must--I will get out, if it's only for an hour's run so as to make myself tired. What must it feel to be a real prisoner, shut up, poor wretch, for years!" Godfrey Boyne, who looked thin and haggard still, was sitting upon the edge of the truckle bed, elbows on knees, chin upon one hand, while the nails of the other were brought close to his firm teeth, to be nibbled and gnawed down till they were close to the quick, as their owner gazed straight out through the open window at the remains of the glowing sunset, which were paling fast. "Why hasn't he been to see me all these hours?" he muttered. "He must know how dreary it is up here. He ought to have come. Books," he muttered, as he glanced sharply round, his eyes lighting for a moment upon one that lay open upon a chair; "I couldn't read when it was all bright and light, and even if I could force myself to now, it will soon be dark. It was enough to make me angry and bang one book down, and throw the other in the corner. Hasn't he any brains? To pick out such books as those--escapes from prison. Oh, how I should like to escape from mine and get into the woods! He promised to take me. But, of course, I would come back. I wouldn't have Waller think me ungrateful for the world. I can't help liking him very much; but he'd think it silly if I told him I did. He won't take me out to-night. He'd say again that it wasn't safe while the soldiers were about; and I suppose he's right. Oh, how miserable it is! I daren't even look out of the window for fear of being seen by the servants or the gardener. Well, it will soon be dark, and then I can stare out at the stars. I wonder whether father got away, and what he thinks about me. Let's see, how did that fellow escape?" he added, after an interval, during which dark clouds were sweeping up from the west, and the room seemed to fill with gloom. "Let's see, he made himself a rope." A rope! The lad sprang from his seat with the alacrity of a wild animal, for the very mention of a rope gave full play to his imagination, and sent him hurrying to and fro to the full extent of what he looked upon as his cage. The next moment he was down upon his knees dragging out one of the drawers which contained his young host's treasures. In an instant the great tangle of fine meshes, pike-shaped leads, and strung-together corks was thrust on one side, while, with a faint sigh of exultation, the prisoner drew out the coil of light brown, pleasant-smelling, firmly twisted hemp that had been intended to form the new drag-rope of the net. "Hah!" panted the lad, as he threw the coil like a great quoit upon the quilt, and then thrust in the drawer. The next minute he was seated upon the edge of the bed with the rope in his lap, and busily untying the string that, in three places, secured it in shape, for it was brand new, just as it had come from the ship chandler's in Southampton City. This was soon done, the stiff rope beginning to expand its rings as if it were some live serpent-like creature eager to escape from its bonds. But Godfrey Boyne paid no heed to this, not even once thinking of coiling it up again and replacing it in the drawer, for, as he thought hard, breathed hard, and felt his spirits expanding like the rope at the thoughts of being free, he saw in imagination the deep dark forest glades, felt the mossy, springy turf beneath his feet, and gave way to that strange half-wild excitement which comes at times upon a boy, and sets him bounding off like some wild creature of the plains, to run, and run, and run onward for no reason at all, until he is forced to stop for want of breath. "Oh, yes," he muttered, "I can fasten it to that beam, slide down, have my run, and get back again without Waller knowing; and I will. No one shall see me. I'll take care of that." The thought of being at last in action sent a thrill through the lad's breast, as if he had taken some powerful tonic, while, as if Nature was completely transforming him, he sprang up again, laying the cord upon the bed, and began to pace the sloping-ceiled room once more. It seemed as if Nature were favouring him further, for the darkness came on like magic till there was quite obscurity enough to favour his designs, and, going straight to the window he thrust out his head. "He will not be up till after he has had his supper, and I could have a couple of hours' run before then," thought the boy; and, leaning out, he plunged his hands into the thick ivy. "What do I want with a rope?" he muttered. "I could climb down here by holding on to these tough stems. Any of these are strong enough to bear me, and--" _Crack_! The tuft of green growth he was holding and involuntarily pressing hard, snapped off short and fell to the ground, rustling softly as it passed over the projecting strands. Godfrey Boyne shook his head and laughed. "I should get down quickly enough," he said to himself, "but what about getting back?" Drawing in his head, he felt for--as it was getting very dark--one end of the thin rope, and then, mounting a stool, he passed the strong hempen twist over the beam, which just allowed room for it to pass, knotted the end, made a slip noose, drew it tight, and then, feeling for the other end of the coil, he began to run it out through the open dormer, listening with wild exultation to the passage of this narrow high-road to liberty over the rustling ivy. It was all excitement now. There was no room for hesitation, as, passing one leg out of the window, holding on to the centre support the while, he drew out the other, lowered himself a little, reaching out with his feet so as to get them beyond the stone gutter below, and then, seizing the rope, he twined one leg round it and began to let himself slide. But it was not done without noise. The twigs of ivy, as he passed over and through them, crackled and snapped; while, as he slid down more and more, and the projecting gutter held the rope out clear, he began to perform evolutions like those of a leg of mutton, pendent from a roasting-jack, the rope displaying more and more desire to untwine. Gripping it tightly, and using his other leg as a break against further descent, Godfrey stopped short to listen, and as he did so he suffered from a catching of the breath, for all at once he heard a sound from within the house, the ivy on a level with his face became illuminated, and a candle was carried past the window of the room by which he swung. He had a glimpse of a woman's face, and as he felt convinced by the gleam of her eyes that she must see him, the light grew less, and was gone. The next minute the lad, after a few more evolutions that threatened to make him giddy, felt his feet touch the soft earth of a flower-bed, from which he swung himself on to the lawn, and was feeling about for the loose rope finding that there were at least twenty yards lying about amongst the shrubs. These he gathered together into one spot, and, with a feeling of exultation growing in his sense of freedom, he gave a sharp glance through the darkness to right and left, and then, making for the carriage-drive, whose position he fully knew now, he strode off rapidly and silently in the direction of one of the forest paths which led towards the little village; but of this fact he was naturally unaware. _ |
||