There has been some little mishap,
I fear. Bob, and Arthur, come with me."
Twemlow was first at the study door, and finding it fastened, struck
with all his force, and shouted, at the very moment when Carne stood
before the true desk of office. "Good door, and good bolt," muttered
Carne; "my rule is never to be hurried by noises. Dolly will be quiet
for a quarter of an hour, and the old gentleman forever. All I want is
about two minutes."
Twemlow stepped back a few yards, and then with a good start delivered a
rushing kick; but the only result was a jar of his leg through the sole
of his thin dress sandal.
"The window!" cried the Marquis. "We'll stop here; you know the house;
take the shortest cut to the window. Whoever is there, we shall have him
so. I am too slow. Boy Bob, go with him."
"What a fool I was not to think of that!" shouted Twemlow, as he set off
for the nearest house door, and unluckily Carne heard him. He had struck
up the ledge of the desk with the butt of the pistol he had fired, and
pocketing a roll of fresh despatches, he strode across the body of the
Admiral, and with a glance at Dolly--whose eyes were wide open, but
her face drawn aside, like a peach with a split stone--out he went. He
smiled as he heard the thundering of full-bodied gentlemen against
the study door, and their oaths, as they damaged their knuckles and
knee-caps. Then he set off hot-foot, but was stopped by a figure
advancing from the corner of the house.
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