At the mouth of the passage Curdie seized the rope, drew himself
up, pushed away the shutter, and entered the dungeon. Then he
swung the end of the rope to Lina, and she caught it in her teeth.
When her master said, 'Now, Lina!' she gave a great spring, and he
ran away with the end of the rope as fast as ever he could. And
such a spring had she made, that by the time he had to bear her
weight she was within a few feet of the hole. The instant she got
a paw through, she was all through.
Apparently their enemies were waiting till hunger should have cowed
them, for there was no sign of any attempt having been made to open
the door. A blow or two of Curdie's mattock drove the shattered
lock clean from it, and telling Lina to wait there till he came
back, and let no one in, he walked out into the silent street, and
drew the door to behind them. He could hardly believe it was not
yet a whole day since he had been thrown in there with his hands
tied at his back.
Down the town he went, walking in the middle of the street, that,
if any one saw him, he might see he was not afraid, and hesitate to
rouse an attack on him. As to the dogs, ever since the death of
their two companions, a shadow that looked like a mattock was
enough to make them scamper. As soon as he reached the archway of
the city gate he turned to reconnoitre the baker's shop, and
perceiving no sign of movement, waited there watching for the
first.
Pages:
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153