"I don't," said Mark. "That's what I want to find out. If it's in the front of the house, I shan't want your help, especially as you're so funky."
Hacking went out into the garden, and presently he came back with the news that Pomeroy was waiting outside to talk to Mark over the wall.
"Waiting outside?" Mark repeated. "What do you mean, waiting outside? How can he be waiting outside when he's locked in his bedroom?"
"But he's not," said Hacking.
Sure enough, when Mark went out he found Cyril astride the party wall between the two gardens waiting for him.
"You can't let your father drag you off to Australia like this," Mark argued. "You'll go all to pieces there. You'll lose your faith, and take to drink, and—you must refuse to go."
Cyril smiled weakly and explained to Mark that when once his father had made up his mind to do something it was impossible to stop him.
Thereupon Mark explained his scheme.
"I'll get an answer from Dorward to-night and you must escape to-morrow afternoon as soon as it's dark. Have you got a rope ladder?"
Cyril smiled more feebly than ever.