CHAPTER XVII

HOW JACK TOOK TO HIS HEELS.

IN a moment all was still in the kitchen; then, after a brief silence, Peternot began to pray, in a low, solemn tone of voice. Jack, waiting and listening in his corner, was dismayed at this, remembering what Hank had just said of the old man’s prayers.

“That’s no praying!” thought he. “I shall never dare stir, unless he puts in, and makes more noise. Is that the best he can do, I wonder?”

Peternot soon showed that he could do better, his voice rising as he proceeded in a manner that greatly encouraged Jack, who now slipped from his corner, in order to make an observation.

Venturing to peep in at the open door, he saw the squire and his wife and nephew all kneeling before their chairs in the kitchen, with their backs toward him. That he considered a fortunate circumstance: they would not see him if he closed the door.

“But if I shut it,” he reflected, “I shall be in the dark, and I may stumble over a chair! I’ll take the money to the window, and get everything ready first,—see just what I must do, and how to do it; then I’ll shut it.”

He drew the bag from the corner, lifted it by its long, loose end, and carried it across the room, casting one more glance at the kneeling group as he passed the door. Then, having set the bag down under the window, he carefully felt for the fastenings, and found the usual spring in one side of the sash. This he pressed with his thumb, and ascertained that the window would easily come open. All being ready, he stepped back, closed the door softly, without daring to latch it, however, and returned to put his plan into execution.

Pressing the window-spring, he raised the sash, and found himself at once in communication with Hank and Cub on the outside.

“Now, hand it out!” said Hank.

“Wait! a little higher,” replied Jack, still pushing up the sash. Unfortunately, it stuck in the frame, and as he still kept his thumb on the spring to prevent its snapping with a noise when it reached a notch, he could not tell when it was fast. “Now, hold it,” he said, and stooped to take up the bag.

Both Cub and Hank had hold of the sash; but as it appeared to be firm in its place, both let go of it in order to seize the treasure; and so it chanced that, between them and Jack, down came the window with a loud clatter and a rattling of glass, broken by Cub’s unlucky fingers in a fruitless attempt to prevent the accident.

Frightened by the noise, which he knew would alarm the household, Jack instantly threw up the sash again, tumbled out the bag, and was tumbling himself out, when the squire rushed into the room. The fugitive scrambled head foremost through the narrow opening, and had nearly escaped, when Peternot with a firm grip seized him by the legs.

“Byron! Wife!” roared the squire within the room. “Light!”

“Boys! help!” screamed Jack, hanging head downwards on the outside, and kicking violently with the captured members.

With one hand he laid hold of the lilac-bush. Hank, returning to his assistance, caught him by the shoulder; while at the same time Byron Dinks relieved his uncle by grasping one of the unlucky legs. Hank pulled on the outside; uncle and nephew pulled on the inside; and for a moment it seemed to Jack that he must certainly break in two, if the struggle continued. It lasted but three or four seconds, and was over by the time Mrs. Peternot came with the candle. Jack succeeded first in freeing the foot held by the nephew, and then made such vigorous use of it that he quickly brought off the other. He fell to the ground, and scrambled away behind the bushes; while Peternot, shouting, “Thieves! robbers!” turned to the door, and rushed out of the house in pursuit.

Jack heard the shout, and the opening of the door, and presently the ominous sound of heavy feet coming after him! He had lost sight of Hank when he fell; and now he had not the faintest idea which way his companions had fled. Had he paused to observe and listen, he might perhaps have heard their retreating footsteps, or caught sight of their gliding forms in the darkness; but the tall form treading close at his heels left him no time for consideration. He went plunging blindly over the wall, and heard the stones rattle again as his pursuer came plunging after him.

The moon had not yet risen, and objects below the horizon were scarcely visible,—an unfortunate circumstance for Jack, whose bare feet suffered in this mad race over the rough ground. Heedless of his hurts, however, he sped on, not in the direction of his own home, but of Aunt Patsy’s house; while _thud_, _thud!_ came the footsteps behind him, nearer and nearer, he fancied. Two or three times he turned his head, and there was the dim shape striding upon his heels, with a hand outstretched to grasp him, he more than once imagined. Never before would he have believed that the old man could run so!

This strange race was brought to a ludicrous close by a rock which lay in Jack’s way, as he was making for Aunt Patsy’s woods. He tripped over it, and fell headlong; and over him fell his pursuer,—a sprawling heap.

“Hang it!” said the latter, “you come pooty nigh breakin’ my neck!” And he lay on the ground laughing, while Jack sprang to his feet.