“It will do famously,” exclaimed Bill, after they had joined all the pieces together. “Even if it does not quite reach to the ground, I should not mind dropping a dozen feet or so.”
“But if we do that, the noise we make in our fall may be heard,” said Jack. “Hadn’t we better bend on the coverlid? It’s not so strong as the sheets, but we can put it at the lower end.”
Bill agreed to this, and, as it was of considerable width, it formed three lengths.
“We have enough almost for a double rope, I expect,” said Bill, as he coiled it away ready to carry to the window at the opposite side of the room.
“Oh, no; I don’t think we’ve enough for that,” said Jack; “even if we had, it won’t matter leaving the rope behind. The Frenchmen will see by the disappearance of the bed-clothes how we got out. I advise that we make only one rope, and just get down to the ground as quietly as we can manage to do.”
Bill made another trip to the door to listen.
“No one is coming,” he whispered, as he returned. “Now let’s carry the rope to the window.”
They did so, and Bill leant out to listen again. No sounds reached his ear, except the occasional barking of a dog.
“The people go to bed early in this country,” he observed, “and I am very much obliged to them. We may start, Jack, without much fear of being stopped.”
“But don’t let us forget our grub,” said Jack; and they filled their pockets with the provisions the old woman had brought them, tying up the remainder in their handkerchiefs, which they fastened to the lanyards of their knives. “Now let’s bend on the rope,” said Bill.