“Egad!” says I, laughing in spite of myself. “And that’s a marvellous neat comparison, cousin. Rats we are, and prettily caged, too, and so----” “And so keep your comparisons to yourself, Master Richard,” says she, rising with a mighty fine air of dignity and marching across the hall. “And your escape, too,” she says, with a glance over her shoulder. “As for me,” she says, pausing with one foot on the stair and looking me steadily in the face, “here I am, and here I stay while one stone stands on another,” and she went up the staircase and vanished, leaving me there full of wonder. “What the devil am I to do?” says I, biting my nails with vexation. “Was ever such a contrary piece of woman flesh? And I thought she was beginning to show me some softness--Lord!” I says, with a sigh that seemed to come from my boots, “the vagaries of these women----” However, there was no good to be got in standing there, so I went out into the kitchen and sent for old Gregory, whom I presently led into a quiet corner. “Gregory,” says I, “set your wits to work, for, faith, there’s need!” And I told him of the news that I had received from Merciful Wiggleskirk and of my cousin’s attitude. “Was ever such a coil?” says I. “You see, Gregory, I swore to my uncle that I would defend and protect her, and how can I do that if she won’t listen to reason? I must get her out of this house and across country to her father’s, and there might be some manner of doing it if only she were not so averse to the notion.” “True,” says he, “but I would not trouble myself over much with that, Master Richard. The best way with women,” says he, “is to make ’em do a thing without argument about it.” “Humph!” says I, feeling somewhat doubtful on that score. “What we want to find out,” says he, “is whether there is some manner of escape that we can avail ourselves of. Is there any chance of leaving the house during the night?” says he. “Not the least,” says I. “They have patrols on every side, and our doors and windows are so barricaded that we could not remove the barricades without attracting the enemy’s notice.” “Then what was it that you had in your mind, Master Richard?” says he. “Faith!” says I, “I don’t know, Gregory. We’re in as pretty a trap as e’er I heard of. Now I come to think on it,” I says, “I don’t see how we are to escape.” He sat silent for a time, stroking his chin, which was his habit when he thought hard. “Master Dick,” says he at last, “did you ever hear of that old passage that leads from our cellar to Farmer Wood’s house?” “A passage?” says I. “Do you mean that there’s an underground passage betwixt our house and Farmer Wood’s? No,” I says, “I never heard of it that I know of, Gregory.”