Struggling to his feet, he got as far as the gate post before the next streak of lightning came hurtling down through the night. He crouched instinctively against the big stone post, and then he remembered Daddy’s warning about never leaning against a fence or a tree during a severe storm. Cows had been electrocuted because they stood near a fence or a tree when the lightning struck. Rising once more, he pulled his jacket more closely about him and shivered as he hurried down the wet and slippery steps.
Back on the terrace, he breathed easier. If he could only get in quietly, they might never have missed him. Holding the rabbits carefully with one hand, he pulled at the screen with the other. It wouldn’t budge. He tried again. The wind had blown it back into place, and there was no way of getting hold of it to loosen it again.
Then he remembered that James was reading in the bedroom next door. He hurried over and scratched on the screen. There was no response. He knocked, but the storm made so much noise that a gentle knocking could not be heard. He was handicapped by having only one hand to work with, but he managed to turn the buttons that held the screen in place. Then he pried it loose by inserting his finger in the little hole at the side and down it came, right in his face!
James was deep in a book, and he didn’t hear a thing. Even the storm raging overhead seemed far away. He sailed the Spanish Main, and the pirates were boarding his ship. Cruel, bearded men tore up and down the deck, swinging their cutlasses and searching for victims.
Just then the window was carefully raised and the wind whistled into the room, almost extinguishing the candle. James looked up in astonishment to behold a bedraggled arm on the sill. He took a deep breath and then screamed for all he was worth. His startled screams tore through the house and brought the whole family to his bedside. Mom got there first. She turned her flashlight to the open window and there stood Bill, as wet and dirty a boy as ever was seen. He carefully put one rabbit down on the foot of the bed and then he reached into his jacket and rescued the other.
“Billy Murray!” cried Mom, her voice rising. “Have you lost your mind? What are you doing out there? Get into the house right this minute before you catch your death of cold.”
“No, no,” she continued, as he tried to boost himself through the window. “Come around to the door!” She ran around to the side of the house and opened the door, and Billy poured in with the rain. He was smeared with mud, and little streams ran from his hands and feet and off the tail of his jacket. Mom spluttered and ran for dry towels. Grandma heated some water on the emergency canned heat stove, so that she could make some hot lemonade for him. Almost before he knew it, the fugitive was warm and dry and clean again, and safely tucked in bed.
The storm roared on. A big branch on the poplar tree tore loose and fell to the ground with a crash. When the lightning flashed, they could see that a pool had formed in the low part of the yard.
Billy lay in bed watching Davey say his prayers when Mom came up, carrying a candle in one hand and a shoe box in the other. She came over and sat on the edge of his bed.
“Here you are, Bedivere,” she said, and she placed the shoe box beside him. He looked in and saw Blackie and Queen fast asleep on a bed of cotton batting.