Yes, there was no doubt about it. The noise was some distance off, and could not be heard very plainly; but it kept on, and seemed to be somebody calling for help. They got off their horse and went into the wood, in the direction from which the call seemed to be coming. As they got farther in among the trees it became louder. It was like a woman calling “Help! Help!” every second or two, but in a strangled voice, as if there were something in the way.
Wooden called out “Coming! Coming!” and they ran on as fast they could.
They came to a little clearing in the wood, and there, sitting on the ground with her back against a great fir-tree, was Wooden’s unfortunate aunt. She had a handkerchief tied over her mouth, and a rope went round her body and tied her tight to the tree. Her hands were behind her, and seemed to be tied too, so that she could not free herself. Altogether, she was in a very sorry plight.
But she did not seem to have altogether lost her spirits, for when she saw them coming towards her she kicked her legs up and gave a little sort of crow, which sounded rather pathetic, coming through her handkerchief.
Wooden untied the handkerchief, murmuring sounds of distress and sympathy all the time, while Colonel Jim busied himself with the rope, and when he found he couldn’t untie it cut it with his sword. In a very short time, Wooden’s aunt was standing up free, shaking the pine needles off her skirts.
“I thought somebody would come if I yelled long enough,” she said, in quite a cheerful voice, which did her credit, as it showed she had a great deal of pluck, in spite of the numerous faults of her nature.
“But how did you come to be here, dear?” asked Wooden. “And what has become of mother?”
“Oh, yer mother’s all right,” said Wooden’s aunt. “She’s with the quality. I don’t like their ways of going on, so I asked them to kindly drop me anywhere that was convenient.”
“But why did they tie you up like this, dear?” asked Wooden.
“Oh, they thought we was playing Blind Man’s Bluff,” said her aunt.