“I determined, however, that I would make a struggle for life.
“The day passed wearily by, and how very, very long it did seem to be sure.
“At last—ah! how my heart did beat—the door of the room opened and the same horrid ragged man came in. He carried a lantern and a sack with bricks, just as before.
“I pretended to be asleep.
“He cautiously opened the door.
“In a moment I sprang up, and he speedily withdrew a badly-bitten hand. Before he could shut me up again I had dashed out and darted from the room.
“I knew not where to run; but here was a window. I was a powerful kitten for my age.
“So the window flew into flinders and I was free.
“Yes, I was free. A homeless, wretched nomad. Now some cats are possessed of the homing instinct, as it is called, in great perfection. But, alas! I felt none of it, else you may be sure, my friends, I should have found my way back again speedily enough to Mrs Rayne’s.
“But I was free. Oh, how glad even that thought made me.