Adventure stories; England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
"Keep very calm, child, and carefully heed what I say. They will not
molest you; I am their game. But I doubt gravely whether I shall fall
to them at present. My way lies through that window and along the
tiles, and whilst they follow, you will simply go downstairs and walk
out at the front door. Go as swiftly as you can down to Piccadilly to
the gates of Hyde Park. And if I am not already come there before you,
wait till I arrive. It is to be considered, of course, that I may have
more difficulty than I apprehend in slipping these fellows."
Here the door was roughly taken and the next instant so heavy a blow
was delivered against it as partly drove in one of the panels. I had
just time to run into the adjoining chamber for a hat and a
riding-cloak, to plant a kiss between brave little Cynthia's brows, and
abjure her not to be afraid, when the door was driven in, and three or
four ugly wretches came tumbling one upon another pell-mell into the
room.
CHAPTER III
INTRODUCES A MERITORIOUS HEBREW
I had hardly time to open the window ere they were recovered of their
entry and on their feet. Seeing what I was about to attempt they made
a rush, but I did not bear youth and vigour in my limbs for nothing.
With a quickness that I'll warrant would have done no discredit to a
cat, I had poised myself on the precarious sill, and had twisted myself
into a favourable position for reaching the roof. It was easily in
reach, as this chamber very happily was at the top of the house. I had
barely taken a firm hold on the iron gutter that ran along the edge of
the tiles, before I had drawn up one knee, and was in the act of
dragging up the other as fast as I could, when it was seized by a hand
from the room below. Luckily for me, I had a firm enough hold of the
roof to get some little purchase for my imprisoned leg, whereby I was
enabled to deal my adversary a pretty smart kick in the teeth, which
sent him cursing back into the room. Thereupon I scrambled
willy-nilly, hands and knees, on to the tiles. Not one moment too
soon, however. My pursuers evidently numbered fleet and active fellows
among them. Their blood was up too. For scarcely had I gone ten yards
along the edge of the tiles, moving on all-fours for safety, ere
another fellow was also in possession of the roof. This was not at all
to my liking, and a good deal outside my calculations, since I had not
expected that these clumsy Bow Street runners would attempt to follow
me in this fashion.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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