It was a desperate struggle; and when he got his shoulders in the
opening, which was just wide enough to admit them, he lay for three or
four minutes, panting heavily, with the perspiration streaming down his
face. The aperture was too small to admit of his turning in any way, and
there was nothing for it, as he knew, but to drop head foremost.
Gradually, he drew himself through the opening, lowering himself as much
as he could by holding on to the upper edge by his feet. Then, stretching
out his arms to save himself, he let go. Fortunately, the ground was
soft, for a garden adjoined the stable; but the shock was a heavy one,
and he lay for a minute or two without moving, having some doubt whether
he had not broken his neck. Then he got up, and listened.
Everything was still and quiet, and, indeed, his fall had been almost
noiseless. He rose to his feet, felt along the wall until he encountered
a low paling, climbed over it, and was in the road.
He had, when he jumped for the window, tied his boots to his back, and
now carried them in his hand. The night was very dark; but his eyes,
accustomed to the greater darkness of the stable, had no difficulty in
following the road. He walked slowly, for the exertion he had undergone
and the shock of the fall had drawn greatly from his small stock of
strength.
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