If only Smith had been shut up next door to me I might have been able to shout to him so that he could hear, but what chance was there when three or four rooms at least divided us? After all, except that he was near me, and knew where I was, things were not much better than they had been before. So I sat down again in my corner and sulkily watched the first glimmers of dawn peep in at the little window. It must be about 3 a.m., I thought. And that meant four good hours before any chance of a release came. And as it was, my feet were pretty nearly dead with cold, and a thin nightgown is not much covering for a fellow’s body and arms. It rather pleased me to think the adventure might end fatally, and that at my inquest Miss Henniker might be brought in guilty of manslaughter.
It must be breezy, for those leaves have been tapping away at my window the last minute or so pretty hard. Bother the leaves! And yet, when you come to think of it, you do not often hear leaves tap as hard as that! My window will be smashed in if they keep it up at that rate. So I get up lazily and approach the scene of action.
I nearly screamed as I did so, for there, close up against the window, was a face! I was so taken aback that it took me a good minute to recover my wits and perceive that the apparition was none other than my faithful friend Jack Smith, and that the tapping I had been giving the leaves such credit for had been his eager attempts to attract my attention.
I sprang to the window, jubilant, and opened it.
“Oh, Jack! hurrah! However did you get here?”
“Oh, you have spotted me at last, have you?” said he, with a grim smile. “I’ve been here five or ten minutes.”
“You have!” exclaimed I.
“Yes. My window opened on to this ledge, too; so I didn’t see why I shouldn’t come.”
“You might have fallen and killed yourself. But I say, Jack, won’t you come in? Even if we do get caught things can’t be much worse than they are.”
“I know that—so I think you’d better come out.”