Seemingly the great rat had been unable to squeeze through the narrow aperture in which even my small self had been caught for the moment, but at the time I do not think that I knew that. My one idea was to run, and run I did, plunging blindly on and on through the black dark like a rabbit with a stoat at its scut. I remember very little about that horrible tunnel or how I got through it. I only know that it was wet and slimy in places, and that it seemed as though I could not breathe. If it had not been for the fear of the rat I should never have been able to go on. But I fully believed that the bloodthirsty monster was behind me all the time, and each instant expected to feel the sharp teeth close upon me; so, breathless and suffocating, I kept on, until at last there was a break in the darkness, and next instant I tumbled headlong out of the mouth of a drain-pipe into the muddy bed of a dried-up pool.
I was so absolutely exhausted that there I lay, quite unable to stir brush or claw. If any prowling cat or weasel had happened upon me I could not have lifted a paw to get away. But nothing did molest me, and after a long time I managed to struggle out of the mud and up the bank on to a patch of grass. When I looked round I found that I was in the Hall kitchen-garden.
I knew my way from there to the house, and slowly and wearily dragged myself back. I made for the elm by Jack’s window, climbed up it, and, finding a nook in a fork between two boughs, curled up, and was fast asleep in a moment.
In the morning I saw that the window was wide open, so, jumping in, I climbed upon Jack’s bed and curled my muddy little body up on the pillow.
There Harry found me, and I am bound to say that Jack himself never made as much fuss about me as his brother did on that occasion.
CHAPTER V
BACK TO THE WOODLANDS
About four in the afternoon of the next day I was lying half-asleep in my cage in the bowling-alley when a sound in the distance made me spring up, quivering all over with excitement. Next moment the door burst open, and in rushed Jack. He never even waited to take off his hat or gloves, but ran up the long room, and flung open my cage door. With one bound I was on his shoulder, nosing him and biting his ears and hair in a perfect transport of delight, and I think he was just as glad as I was.
Presently his sister’s voice called him from behind. He turned and kissed her, and with me still on his shoulder, followed her to the Hall, where the Squire and Mrs. Fortescue were at tea.
After this Jack and I became more inseparable than ever. He had holidays—these days—and I simply lived in his pocket. The next afternoon there was great excitement. I heard every one congratulating Jack, though of course I did not in the least comprehend why his mother and sister hugged and kissed him, and the Squire solemnly shook hands with him. It was just as well for me that I did not realize what had happened, or those lovely September days would have been the most miserable instead of the happiest in the whole of my life; for Jack had passed an examination with the result that in a few weeks he would have to go and live and work in London—a dreadful place, I understand—where it is all houses and no trees, where the sun never shines, and where the only wild creatures that exist are those cheeky, chattering thieves, the sparrows.