The next instant something leaped into the room.

It was like a cat, with legs as long as a horse's, Irene said, but its body no bigger and its legs no thicker than those of a cat.

She was too frightened to cry out, but not too frightened to jump from her chair and run from the room.
It is plain enough to every one of my readers what she ought to have done--and indeed, Irene thought of it herself; but when she came to the foot of the old stair, just outside the nursery door, she imagined the creature running up those long ascents after her, and pursuing her through the dark passages--which, after all, might lead to no tower! That thought was too much.

Her heart failed her, and, turning from the stair, she rushed along to the hall, whence, finding the front door open, she darted into the court pursued--at least she thought so--by the creature.

No one happening to see her, on she ran, unable to think for fear, and ready to run anywhere to elude the awful creature with the stilt-legs.