He made his way to the window, through the darkness, having slung his
sack over his shoulder and holding it with his right hand, while with the
left he guided himself up the dais and along its outside edge, giving as
wide a berth as possible to the great chair and its encircling canopy.
With a sigh of relief he found the window, moved the sack from his
shoulder, and set it on the ledge for a moment. But it was awkward to get
down from the window, holding that heavy sack. He lowered it towards the
ground, so that it might land gently, and, just as he let it go, he
turned his head back and whispered to Mike, "All serene. Get a move on!"
"Half a minute!" answered Mike, as he in his turn set out to grope his
way to the window.
But he was not so cautious as his friend had been. In his progress he
kicked the tall footstool sharply with one of his feet. Neddy leant back
from the window, asking quickly, and again very nervously, "What the
devil's that?"
Beaumaroy could not resist the opportunity thus offered to him. He was
crouching on the ground, not exactly under the window, but just to the
right of it.
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