My
foot went into the nest of a sitting hen, right on to the
creature's back. Up she started, giving me such a fright that I
nearly screamed. She flew with a cackling shriek which set all
the blackbirds chippering in the countryside. Round the loft she
scattered, calling her hideous noise. Up jumped the carter, down
came his pitchfork with a thud. His great boots clattered over
the stable to the ladder. Clump, clump, he came upstairs, with
his pitchfork prongs gleaming over his head like lanceheads. I
saw his head show over the opening of the loft. There was not a
second to lose. His back of course was still towards me, as the
ladder was mercifully nailed to the wall. Before he turned I slid
over the mouth of the shaft down into the hayrack of the old
brute who had whinnied. I lit softly; but I certainly shocked
that old mare's feelings. In a second, before she had time to
kick, I was outside her stall, darting across the stable to the
key, which lay on the truss of hay, mercifully left there by its
guardian. In another second the lock had turned. I was outside,
in the glorious open fields again. Swiftly but silently I drew
the key out of the lock. One second more sufficed to lock that
door from without. The carter was a prisoner there, locked safely
in with his horses. I was free. The key was in my pocket. Yonder
lay the great combes which hid Taunton from me. I waved my hat
towards them; then, with a wild joyous rush, I scrambled behind
the cover of the nearest hedge, along which I ran hard for nearly
a quarter of a mile.
Pages:
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264