Spreading it out upon the window-sill, I managed to make out as follows:
"DEAR UNKEL DICK,--I'm riting this with my hart's blood bekors I'm a prisner in a gloomie dungun. It isn't really my heart's blood it's only red ink, so don't worry. Aunty lisbath cent me to bed just after tea bekors she said i'm norty, and when she'd gone Nurse locked me in so i can't get out and i'm tired of being a prisner, so please i want you to get the ladda and let me eskape, please unkel dick, will you.--yours till deth,
"REGINALD AUGUSTUS."
"Auntie was reading Ivanhoe to us and i've been the Black Knight and you can be Gurth the swine-herd if you like."
"So that's the way of it?" I said. "Well! well! such an appeal shall not go unanswered, at least. Wait there, my trusty Benjamin, and I'll be with you anon." Pausing only to refill my tobacco-pouch and get my cap, I sallied out into the fragrant night, and set off along the river, the faithful Benjamin trotting at my heels.
Very soon we were skirting blooming flowerbeds and crossing trim lawns, until at length we reached a certain wing of the house, from a window of which a pillow-case was dangling by means of a string.
"That's for provisions!" volunteered Ben. "We pertended he was starving, so he lets it down, an' I fill it with onions out of the vegetable garden."
At this moment the curly head of the Imp appeared at the window, followed by the major portion of his person.
"Oh, Uncle Dick!" he cried, in a loud stage-whisper, "I think you had better be the Black Knight, 'cause you're so big, you know."
"Imp," I said, "get in at once! Do you want to break your neck?"