But I was not disposed to simply hammer and shout. I proposed to do something. Monte Cristo escaped from the Chateau d'If. And if by any possible means I could win my way out I did not intend to remain the Ogre's prisoner a moment longer than I could help. So, by way of a commencement, I smashed the window. With the ruler I deliberately knocked out as much of the frosted glass as I could. Most of it went outside and, amid the prevailing stillness, it seemed to make quite a terrible noise. I found that the look-out was into a sort of well. The frame was so narrow, and the fringe of broken glass so obvious, that I could not lean right out; and from as far as I could get I could not see the bottom, nor the top either. There were walls and windows above, below, all around. And, so far as I could perceive, nothing else. While I was wondering whatever I should do next, a window right opposite, on the other side of the well, was thrown up, and someone looked out, a masculine someone. I do not think I was ever so glad to see anyone in my life as I was to see that boy--he appeared to me to be a boy, though I daresay he supposed himself to be a man. The sight of me seemed to occasion him surprise--which was not to be wondered at. "I beg your pardon, but--have you just broken that window? "I have!" "It made such an all-fired din that I thought something had happened." "Something has happened! I'm shut up in here!" "No? Are you? What a horrid shame. We're in the same box, because I'm shut up in here. Governor told me not to go till he came back from lunch, and as he's gone off with some other fellows to a regular spread, it looks as though he's never coming back again. And I ought to be down at Richmond for a cricket match. It looks like getting there! Though what they'll do without me I can't think. Because, apart from batting, with the leather I'm a marvel. My name's Clifford--perhaps you know my name? Last Saturday, playing for the Putney Pilgrims, I took eight wickets in nine overs. It was in the papers. Perhaps you saw it there. I don't know if you're interested in that sort of thing." He rattled on at such a rate that he did not give me a chance to speak. "I'm afraid you don't understand: I'm locked in here." "Locked in? No? Not really?" "Yes, really!" He was dense. "And I want you to come and break down the door and let me out." "Break down the door? Me? What ho! Pray, are you trying to take a rise out of yours truly? I'm more than seven, you know." "You don't look it; and you don't sound it either." I tried to explain. "If you will listen, I will endeavour to make you understand. This place belongs to a robber and a thief. I came to get back some of the things he has stolen. He's gone away and locked the door, and left me here, and I want you to come and let me out!" "I say! Isn't that rather a rummy story?"