He gazed mournfully out of window at each well-known object as it lay
sleeping in the dim light of the moon; and creeping back to his former
seat, thought about the late uproar, until, with long thinking of, it
seemed to have occurred a month ago. Thus, between dozing, and thinking,
and walking to the window and looking out, the night wore away; the grim
old screen, and the kindred chairs and tables, began slowly to reveal
themselves in their accustomed forms; the grey-eyed general seemed to
wink and yawn and rouse himself; and at last he was broad awake again,
and very uncomfortable and cold and haggard he looked, in the dull grey
light of morning.
The sun had begun to peep above the forest trees, and already flung
across the curling mist bright bars of gold, when Joe dropped from his
window on the ground below, a little bundle and his trusty stick, and
prepared to descend himself.
It was not a very difficult task; for there were so many projections and
gable ends in the way, that they formed a series of clumsy steps, with
no greater obstacle than a jump of some few feet at last. Joe, with his
stick and bundle on his shoulder, quickly stood on the firm earth, and
looked up at the old Maypole, it might be for the last time.
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