The next day being Sunday, none of us left the house, and I think this was the most miserable time of all that I spent beneath Mr. Parsons' roof. I missed the Sunday service, and felt very lonely and helpless. At last, pretending to be overcome by drowsiness, I asked permission to go to bed at seven o'clock.
Whether or not it was due to the brightness of the morning, I awoke with a sense of unaccustomed exhilaration, and something seemed to assure me that I should find my longed-for opportunity to escape before night.
CHAPTER XIX.
As to what was to happen if I escaped, I had very little idea. Once let me get away from my present surroundings, and nothing else seemed to matter; things could not easily become worse. But, as a matter of fact, I had thought once or twice that I would run the risk of trying to discover Rogers, Captain Knowlton's servant, who had certainly not accompanied him on board the Seagull. I knew that Captain Knowlton had given up his rooms before he left England, but still I might succeed in finding some one who could tell me where Rogers lived, and I felt certain the man would help me if possible. Hitherto I had determined to avoid the Albany, thinking that Mr. Turton would take care to anticipate me, and perhaps make arrangements for my capture, for, in spite of all I had passed through, I shrank as much as ever from the idea of returning to Castlemore, and Augustus and the other fellows at Ascot House. Still, I had in my pocket only the bad half-crown which Mr. Parsons had given me in the train, and it seemed wiser to take the risk of being intercepted, and to make my way to Captain Knowlton's old quarters. But at present I stood no chance of making my way anywhere alone, and the first thing I had to do was to get clear of Mr. Parsons and the Loveridges.
'A lovely morning, Jacky,' Mr. Parsons remarked on Monday, as he took my arm and led me away from the house. 'Makes me feel quite young again.'
'Which way are we going?' I asked.
'Ah, now, which way?'
'I like Oxford Street best,' I answered.
'Do you, my lad?' he cried, amiably. 'Then suppose we try Oxford Street?'