He reached up into the hole with his right foot. The foot reached the oaken door that lay across the mouth. It had been fastened with leather hinges, but these had worn away and they had not been renewed since the house became deserted. Several inches of earth had collected on it. Gypo pushed against it and made no impression on this mass of earth and rubbish that covered it. He took another rest and then pushed with all his might. He raised it suddenly, with a sucking sound, about three inches. A mass of dirt and earth fell down with a swish. It landed on the floor beneath with a showery thud. The noise terrified Gypo. The sentries outside the door would hear it. In a furious rage, he kicked with all his might and sent the door flying away from the hole. A whole load of earth fell with a rush and a gust of cold night air came with it, with equal rapidity, ferociously, as if it had been waiting a long time to attack. In spite of the blinding dirt and the freezing air, Gypo stuck his legs through the hole immediately and clutched the garden surface with his heels. Then he let go one hand off the ring and gripped the side of the hole. He hurt his collar-bone badly as he did so. Now his body was secure in the hole. He let go the other hand, supporting himself on the thigh muscles that gripped the sides of the hole until the second hand and his head came into the hole. Then he scrambled through on to the garden. He bounded to his feet and hurtled forward on his face. Two shots had thundered through the hole as he cleared it. They were after him. He snorted with fright. For a moment he stood still, confused by the din of voices and the rushing feet. Then he darted away headlong through the rubbish towards the house, ten yards away. His only escape lay that way. He entered the house at a bound, through a hole in the kitchen wall. He cleared the kitchen in two strides. He was in the hallway. Flash, flash, bang, bang. Two more shots. His fist floored a tall man. He rammed a second with his head. He floundered through the hall. Bang, bang. They whizzed closely past his right side. He slipped on the flags of the hall as he tried to wheel towards the right wall. He came to his hands and knees. As he rose again a man threw himself upon him, firing as he did so, so closely that Gypo smelt the explosion that flashed blindingly by his ear. Missed again. They closed, grappling one another’s bodies, with groping, shifting paws. They tumbled in the doorway. They both rose. Gypo loosed one arm and struck. The other man collapsed without a sound. Gypo dropped him. He fell on his back. It was the Dart Flynn. Gypo grunted, bounded to his feet and wheeled to the right, into the open air. With a gurgling laugh, he bounded away into the darkness. He was away, swallowed by the night. CHAPTER XV