Beneath the window stood the little rifleman, white in the shadow of the house, and grinning up at him.
"How did you get through?"
"Slip through em, sir—h'easy as a h'eel."
"Don't talk so loud," whispered the boy. "Just hop on to the sill of the lower window. I'll see if I can haul you in."
"No, sir. I won't come in. I may be more usefuller outside. Keep em on the Key Whiff as the sayin is."
"Then keep still! don't jig! hug in here in the shadow of the house!
I'll call Mr. Joy."
The Parson was at the window in a minute and listening to the man's story.
According to his own account Knapp had done the twelve miles to Lewes under the hour.
"Went slap away, as your orders was, sir, no foolin nor nothin, just slap bang through em—you ask Mr. Caryll."
"Never mind about your feats," said the Parson shortly. "Did you see the Commandant?"