"If you did get in," said Joseph, speaking in a whisper as they went, "would you feel quite safe after this?"
"I have no fear. I dare say they would lock me up somewhere if they could, before I got to Mr. Redmain's room: once in, they would not dare touch me."
"I shall not go out of hearing so long as you are in that house," said Joseph, with decision. "Not until I have you out again do I leave the premises. If anything should make you feel uncomfortable, you cry out, miss, and I'll make a noise at the door that everybody at Thornwick over there shall hear me."
"It is a large house, Joseph: one might call in many a part of it, and never be heard out of doors. I don't think you could hear me from Mr. Redmain's room," said Mary, with a little laugh, for she was amused as well as pleased at the protection Joseph would give her; "it is up two flights, and he chose it himself for the sake of being quiet when he was ill."
As she spoke, they reached the door they sought—the most likely of all to be still open: it was fast and dark as if it had not been unbolted for years. One or two more entrances they tried, but with no better success.
"Come this way," whispered Joseph. "I know a place where we shall at least be out of their sight, and where we can plan at our leisure."
He led her to the back entrance to the old hall. Alas! even that was closed.
"This is disappointing," he said; "for, if we were only in there, I think something might be done."
"I believe I know a way," said Mary, and led him to a place near, used for a wood-shed.
At the top of a great heap of sticks and fagots was an opening in the wall, that had once been a window, or perhaps a door.