An old man
on a couch in an adjoining room heard the news, and, little thinking
that his deposition and confession were safe in the Squire's possession
along with many other documents, rejoiced thereat, and conceived a
heroic project. At first, he thought of enlisting the idiot boy, but had
to give up the idea; for the boy was happy with those whom he knew, and
obstinately refused to go near the old reprobate. Sylvanus no longer
watched him; he was basking in the smiles of Tryphena, and, at the same
time, amusing Monty. There was a passage from the room he was in to the
back of the main hallway, which led into the open air, independently of
the summer kitchen. His coat was gone and his hat, both his boots were
removed, and his wounded leg was bandaged, but he was a tough old
criminal, and a bare back rider from a boy. He slipped off the couch,
and helped himself along by the wall, thankful that his boots were off
and he could move quietly. Still, simple Sylvanus, taken in by the good
old man who loved to have the Bible read to him, neglected his duty.
Newcome gained the hall, the porch, the open air, and, at last, could
hardly believe his good luck to find himself in the stable unperceived.
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