"He has done nothing that deserves punishment, I am sure."
"Of course, scalding me is a very slight affair, in your opinion; but I happen to think differently," he said, with a sneer.
He drew on his pantaloons as he spoke, and seizing a leather strap, left the room.
"Oh, dear," sighed Mrs. Huxter, "I do wish Mr. Huxter wouldn't be so violent. I don't see what can have turned him so against that poor boy. I am sure he's very polite and gentlemanly."
She wanted to say more, in the hope of dissuading her husband from his harsh resolution, but she dared not. She went to the foot of the attic stairs to listen, fearing that she would hear the sounds of an altercation. She saw Mr. Huxter draw the bolt and enter the chamber, but she was quite unprepared to see him burst forth furiously a minute later, exclaiming in a rage:—
"He's gone,—the young rascal has escaped."
"Escaped?" repeated Mrs. Huxter, bewildered, for she could not conceive how John could escape from a third-story room when the door was bolted.
"Ha, are you there?" demanded her husband. "What do you know of this?" he asked, suspiciously.
"Nothing at all," said Mrs. Huxter. "I don't see how he could have got away."