“Is it the next house?”
“No, it isn’t—nor the next arter that either—but it’s all the safer for that. You’ve got a few roofs to get over, but I know ’em if well as I know my own pocket.”
The man then opened the small latticed window of the room and looked out for a moment. Then, with a satisfied tone, he said,—
“It’s a regular dark night. There ain’t a shadow o’ fear.”
“You think I shall escape?”
“I know it. I’ve said it. Think o’ my honour.”
He then took from an old chest a coil of very thick rope, in one end of which he busied himself in making a noose, which, when he had completed, he advanced with it to Gray, saying,—
“Just pop your head through.”
“Gracious Heavens!” cried Gray, starting up. “What do you mean?”
“Mean? Why to take care of you to be sure; I know the way over the roofs, but you don’t. You’ll smash yourself in some of the courts without a guide rope, you will.”