'Through the door,' said the judge. 'There is a rule about putting prisoners on their honour not to escape, but there have not been any prisoners for so long that I don't suppose they put you on honour. No? You can just walk out of the door. There are many charitable persons in the city who will help to conceal you. The front-door key turns easily, and I myself will oil it as I go out. Good-bye--thank you so much for falling in with my little idea. Accept an old man's blessing. Only don't tell the gaoler. He would never forgive me.' He got off his mat, rolled it up and went. 'Well!' said Lucy. 'Well!' said Philip. 'I suppose we go?' he said. But Lucy said, 'What about the gaoler? Won't he catch it if we bolt?' Philip felt this might be true. It was annoying, and as bad as being put on one's honour. 'Bother!' was what he said. And then the gaoler came in. He looked pale and worried. 'I am so awfully sorry,' he began. 'I thought I should enjoy having you here, but my nerves are all anyhow. The very sound of your voices. I can't write a line. My brain reels. I wonder whether you'd be good enough to do a little thing for me? Would you mind escaping?' 'But won't you get into trouble?' 'Nothing could be worse than this,' said the gaoler, with feeling. 'I had no idea that children's voices were so penetrating. Go, go. I implore you to escape. Only don't tell the judge. I am sure he would never forgive me.' After that, what prisoner would not immediately have escaped? The two children only waited till the sound of the gaoler's keys had died away on the stairs, to open their door, run down the many steps and slip out of the prison gate. They walked a little way in silence. There were plenty of people about, but no one seemed to notice them. 'Which way shall we go?' Lucy asked. 'I wish we'd asked him where the Charitables live.' 'I think,' Philip began; but Lucy was not destined to know what he thought. There was a sudden shout, a clattering of horses' hoofs, and all the faces in the square turned their way. 'They've seen us,' cried Philip. 'Run, run, run!' He himself ran, and he ran toward the gate-house that stood at the top of the ladder stairs by which they had come up, and behind him came the shouting and clatter of hot pursuit. The captain stood in the gateway alone, and just as Philip reached the gate the captain turned into the guard-room and pretended not to see anything. Philip had never run so far or so fast. His breath came in deep sobs; but he reached the ladder and began quickly to go down. It was easier than going up. [Illustration: And behind him the clatter of hot pursuit.] He was nearly at the bottom when the whole ladder bridge leapt wildly into the air, and he fell from it and rolled in the thick grass of that illimitable prairie.