Stook carried it through. He looked broiled and boisterous, the heated hero of a five-mile run.
"He bruk through t' hedge here. He be blood mad."
He blundered on, and the Frenchman seemed caught by his hairy and vigorous enthusiasm. They ran round the house together, David remaining behind. He had seen someone come to an upper window.
"Miss Nance, we be after ye——"
Nance was looking down at him.
"David! Oh, be careful!"
"I know, miss. Mr. Winter has his eyes open. Be that your window?"
She nodded.
"There is a great cistern full of water under it, David. I thought I might have let myself down."
He stole up, and glimpsed a big brick tank into which all the rain-water was guttered from the roof. Trying it with his hazel stick he found he could not reach the bottom. And it was directly under Nance's window.