Black Alice
“Of course, in the strict sense Bessy's bedroom might not have qualified as dark, despite all that the curtains and the blinds could do; nor was it, as much as Alice might have liked, strange (imagine, though, if the walls had been stone! Imagine portraits of the ancestors; imagine a curse; imagine bloodstains on the tapestry, or, for that matter, imagine the tapestry!), nor yet a funeral parlour—any more. Bessy, however, came as close as one could fairly ask of a person to being a giant, and Alice was tiptoeing almost beneath her nose, and she was, beyond a quibble, kidnapped, which was, after all, the essential thing.
She raised a slat of the blind and peeked out...
... and there was nothing to see! Water—muddy brown water, much more than Alice could have swum across. Pressing herself against the window pane and looking straight down she could see tufts of marshy-looking grass. There must, she decided, be a better way to escape than climbing down from this window.
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