He looked round his room, which was a bare old attic, with dormer windows and casements, from which, on flinging one open, he saw that he was far too high from the ground for a descent without a rope; but a second glance showed him that it would be possible to climb upon the roof, and when there he might perhaps manage to get somewhere else.
Just then he heard a window opened on the floor below, and, looking down, he saw Adela, evidently gazing towards the moat.
For a few moments he felt too indignant to speak, for he thought Sir Henry was behaving very ill to him; but a little reflection told him that his old companion was not to blame, and what she might even then be feeling very grateful to him for what he had done.
“Well, I’ll give her a chance to show it,” he thought; and, leaning out a little more he said lightly, “Well, Addy, are you any the worse for your dip?”
“Oh, Hil!” she exclaimed looking up, “are you there?”
“Yes, and locked up safely. I say, your people are behaving very badly to me.”
“Oh, Hil,” cried the girl with the tears in her eyes, “I am so sorry. I’ve been begging papa not to have you caught, and he says he could not help it.”
“Then he ought to help it,” replied Hilary warmly.
“But he says he’s bound to keep faith with his friends; and that if you would only give your word not to escape and betray our hiding-place you might come and live with us; and oh, Hil dear, it would be like old times, and we could have such walks together. Do be a good boy, and promise what papa wishes! I should like you to come and be with us again, for I have no companion now.”
Hilary looked down at the bright little face, and as the thoughts of how pleasantly the time would pass in her company came upon him, as compared with the miseries he had to endure, he felt sorely tempted to give his parole; he might do that, he argued.