He shut Fred into the closet, and stole like a little mouse out of the room and along the passage. He took a brush and comb bag, and stuffed some of Fred's clothes into it, with its usual contents. Another bag—a work-bag when it was new—held some of his own clothes. The big red comforter might be useful, for if they could not reach Liverpool before night, they must sleep in the fields. Then the money. Father's picture was safe in his pocket. Then he stole back and released Fred. They crept across the hall and into the porch. The cart was still there, for Jacob had gone to make himself presentable after his adventures as a fireman, and the great gate was still open. In a few moments Janet's two darlings were out of the court, and had darted into a side path, where some shrubs concealed them from view. "But we must get back to the big road when we are far enough from the Castle," said Frank, "and get to the gate. I remember the gate. Jacob called 'gate,' and an old woman came and opened it." "I can call 'gate' just like Jacob," said Fred. "Listen—gate!" "Hush, hush! We'll be caught, if you shout. Come, let us get back into the road." The poor little souls were as merry as grigs, running and jumping, then walking hand-in-hand, talking and laughing in the delights of their newfound freedom. They never heard the sound of wheels, till Jacob called "Hullo, boys!" When they stood gazing, and gave themselves up for lost. "Hullo, boys! What brings you here?" "We—came out—the gate was open," Frank answered. "And you wanted a breath of fresh air? And, indeed, 'tis a shame to keep you mewed up in the court. But you'll be lost, and that won't do. Come now, jump in here, and I'll take you as far as the north gate, and then you can run back to the Castle. I'm doing this for you, Frank—you're a right brave little chap; not for you, Fred, that wanted to burn the old place down." "No, not the place at all, Jacob; only grandma's cap. The west happened of itself," Fred explained. "Fred, it was not right," put in Frank. "I never will again, Fwank—weally never." "You won't have a chance, you little fool," said Jacob. "Maria was telling me Mrs. Rayburn won't keep you, even if my lord would let her. You'll be sent away, and Frank will stay till he's old enough to go as a page-boy at Beaucourt. That's what Mrs. Rayburn has made up her mind to." Fred, thoroughly frightened, clung to his poor little protector, who whispered— "I'll save you; only don't say a word." They soon reached the north gate. It was open, and Jacob said to the boys— "Out with you now, and run home. I want to speak to Mrs. Price." The boys tumbled out, clutching their bags. Jacob went to the lodge: when he came back, the boys were gone. They had run across the road and scrambled over the low fence into a field, where they hid, until Jacob came out and put his horse into a brisk trot.