Soon there came a pounding on the outside of the trunk which reverberated through the hollow, jarring me horribly. The outer crust was of no great thickness, and could not resist their blows for very long. Rotten wood, bits of rubbish of all kinds began to rain down upon me through the smoke which still hung about the hollow interior of the tree. Thinking any fate better than dying like a rat in a trap, I climbed back up the wall of my refuge in an attempt to reach the knot-hole again. Half suffocated and completely dazed, I did manage to struggle up to it, got my paws on either side and tried to force my way through. Alas! A splinter broke away from the rough wood at the edge of the hole, and pinned me helplessly. I could get neither forward nor back. Fate was too strong for me. I gave up all hope, and ceased to struggle. In another minute at most the boy would find me, and I should share poor Crab’s fate. I heard a crash as the chopper broke through the bark below, and Zeke’s voice: ‘Vather, ’e be up top again.’ Then it seemed to me that a miracle happened. Instead of the old fellow’s voice, the crisp, curt tones that cut the air were those of my one-time master, Jack. ‘Hi, you fellows, what are you about?’ Down dropped Zeke. There followed a crash among the bushes. A short interval. Would Jack find me? I struggled again furiously, but in vain. The splinter held me tight, and the only result of my efforts was exquisite pain. ‘I wonder what those gipsy chaps were after?’ came Jack’s voice. ‘I’d better have a look.’ Fresh sounds of scrambling, and all of a sudden my master’s face over the edge of the gnarled oak crown. ‘Why, it’s a squirrel!’ Summoning all my remaining energies I gave a pitiful choked squeak, a feeble attempt at the cry I used to call him with in the long-gone days at the Hall. ‘What! No, it can’t be! It’s absurd! And yet’—Jack’s voice rose to a shout—‘by Jove, _it is Nipper_!’ I felt his hand round me, his touch as gentle as ever. ‘You poor little chap, how did you come here? And stuck tight, too! Never mind, poor old Nipper boy. I’ll get you out all right. Just wait a jiffy.’ Out came his knife, and with the utmost gentleness he cut the wood away all round. In another minute I was free, and safe in his hand. ‘What, hurt, old chap? I must get it out.’ With wonderful tenderness and deftness he pulled out the sharp splinter. ‘There, it’s not much. Only a skin wound. How in the name of all that’s wonderful, did you come here, half a county away from the Hall?’ As he spoke he slipped me into the pocket of his Norfolk jacket and dropped quickly out of the tree. When he took me out again we were in the terraced garden of the house which I had seen by the river. Jack ran up the drive and burst into the house, shouting at the top of his voice: ‘Harry, where are you?’ Next minute out ran his brother.