“Why, what’s the matter!” cried the doctor, as he entered the room hastily, followed by Sir James.
“Matter, sir?” said Peter, “matter enough. If I hadn’t held him down like this here I believe he’d ’a’ been out o’ that window.”
“Why, Dexter!” cried the doctor.
The boy struggled feebly, and then, seeing the futility of his efforts, he lay still and closed his eyes.
“Went off fast asleep, sir, as any one would ha’ thought,” said Peter. “And seeing him like that I thought I’d just go down and fetch myself a cup o’ tea; but no sooner was I out o’ the room than he must have slipped out and dressed hisself—shamming, you know—and if I hadn’t come back in the nick o’ time he’d have been gone.”
The doctor frowned, and Sir James looked satisfied, as he gave him a nod.
“Going to run away, eh!”
“Yes, Sir James,” said the groom; “and it was as much as I could do to hold him.”
“Get up, Peter,” said the doctor.
The groom rose, and Dexter leapt up like a bit of spring, and darted toward the door.