Spreading it out upon the windowsill, I managed to make out as
follows:
DEAR UNKEL DICK: I'm riting this with my hart's blood bekors I'm a
prisner in a gloomie dungun. It isn't really my hart's blood it's
only red ink, so don't worry. Aunty lisbath cent me to bed just
after tea bekors she said I'm norty, and when she'd gone Nurse
locked me in so i can't get out and I'm tired of being a prisner,
so please i want you to get the ladda and let me eskape, please
unkel dick, will you.
yours till deth,
REGINALD AUGUSTUS.
Auntie was reading Ivanhoe to us and I've been the Black Knight and
you can be Gurth the swine-herd if you like.
"So that's the way of it?" I said.
"Well! well! such an appeal shall not go unanswered, at least. Wait
there, my trusty Benjamin, and I'll be with you anon." Pausing only
to refill my tobacco-pouch and get my cap, I sallied out into the
fragrant night, and set off along the river, the faithful Benjamin
trotting at my heels.
Very soon we were skirting blooming flower-beds, and crossing trim
lawns, until at length we reached a certain wing of the house from
a window of which a pillow-case was dangling by means of a string.
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