And all the time the soldiers were hammering away like mad at the front door.
Elfrida caught the Mouldiwarp and the nurse caught Edred’s hand, and the four raced up the stairs to the very top landing, where there was a little window at the very end. The air was keen and cold. The window opened difficultly, and when it was opened the air was much colder than before.
“Now, then, out with you—ladies first,” cried the Mouldiwarp.
“You don’t really mean,” said Elfrida,—“you can’t mean that we’re to jump out into—into nothing?”
“I mean you’re to jump out right enough,” said the Mouldiwarp. “What you’re to jump into’s any pair of shoes—and it’s my look-out, anyway.”
“It’s ours a little too, isn’t it?” said Elfrida timidly, and her teeth were chattering; she always said afterwards that it was with cold.
“Then get along home your way,” said the Mouldiwarp, beginning to vanish.
“Oh, don’t! Don’t go!” Elfrida cried, and the pounding on the door downstairs got louder and louder.
“If I don’t then you must,” said the Mouldiwarp testily. But it stopped vanishing.
“Put me down,” it said. “Put me down and jump, for goodness’ sake!”