Bursting
it open, he found the chamber empty, but there was a shout of elvish
laughter outside, and a cry of dismay coming up from the garden,
impelled him to mount the rickety deal-table below the deep sunk
dormer window, when thrusting out his head and shoulders, he beheld
his wife and her parents gazing up in terror from the lawn. No
wonder, for there was a narrow ledge of leading without, upon which
Maurice had suddenly appeared, running with unwavering steps till in
a moment he stooped down, and popped through the similar window of
Gilbert's room.
While still too dizzy with horror to feel secure that the child was
indeed safe within, those below were startled by a frantic shout from
Algernon: 'Let me out! I say, the imp has locked me in! Let me
out!'
Albinia flew into the house and upstairs. Maurice was flourishing
the key, and executing a war-dance before the captive's door, with a
chant alternating of war-whoops, 'Promise not to hurt it, and I'll
let you out!' and 'Pity poor prisoners in a foreign land!'
She called to him to desist, but he was too wild to be checked by her
voice, and as she advanced to capture him, he shot like an arrow to
the other end of the passage, and down the back-stairs. She promised
speedy rescue, and hurried down, hoping to seize the culprit in the
hall, but he had whipped out at the back-door, and was making for the
garden gate, when his father hastened down the path to meet him, and
seeing his retreat cut off, he plunged into the bushes, and sprang
like a cat up a cockspur-thorn, too slender for ascent by a heavier
weight, and thence grinned and waved his hand to his prisoner at the
window.
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