CHAPTER XXIII.
AN END OF HIDING.
At the earliest opportunity on the following day Madge, Betty, and John returned to the loft to finish their interrupted game. They were three cavaliers hiding from Cromwell's soldiers, and really a better place of concealment could not have been found than the loft, where by simply closing a door they were in almost complete darkness. Madge, as captain, neglected no opportunity of ensuring the safety of her followers. She made them crouch down behind the straw, and lie so still that even the most sharp-sighted Roundheads would scarcely have suspected their existence.
"I will steal out to keep watch," she whispered, creeping on her hands and knees towards the closed door. "Posted by the crack of the hinges I can survey the whole country, and watch the march of the rebel troops without being seen. Then when— Oh!"
The door suddenly flew open in her face, almost knocking her over. A head appeared at the top of the ladder. It was Lewis Brand's!
If the children had really been discovered by Cromwell's soldiers they could hardly have been more frightened. Lewis had time to step off the ladder and come into the loft before they recovered themselves sufficiently to speak.
"You don't seem overjoyed to see a friend?" he remarked sneeringly.
"Oh, do go away!" cried Betty nervously. "Somebody will see you! I know they will!"
"It's very kind of you to be so anxious on my account, but I think I can take care of myself," said Lewis with a disagreeable laugh. "You thought you had all got away from me, did you? Pretty sort of friends, I call you! All going off one day without saying a word, and never coming back."
"After all, we are not obliged to play with you!" exclaimed Madge with some spirit.
"Aren't you indeed? We shall soon see!" replied Lewis. "I'm not at all sure that you can get away from me! I sat on the wall and watched you come down here after dinner, then I seized my opportunity when nobody was about, and ran across the fields to join you. It was worth seeing how frightened you all were when I quietly stepped in at the door! And wherever you go to play I shall turn up in just the same way. You see if I don't!"
"What nonsense! We can play in the garden if we like!" said Madge defiantly.
"So you can! And find me hiding in the potting-shed and behind the cucumber-frames," replied Lewis.
Betty began to cry. It was not very brave of her, but then she had been rejoicing so much at getting rid of Lewis and his mysteries, and was so horribly disappointed when they all returned.
"I won't have you coming back here to tease us all!" cried Madge angrily. "I am sorry we ever spoke to you. It was wrong of us, and I heartily wish we hadn't. If you go on—"
"Mind, you promised faithfully not to tell anybody about me," interrupted Lewis. "If you say a single word about my coming over the wall you will have told a lie."
"Yes, that's the worst of it," admitted Madge. "And yet it seems just as untruthful to meet you and pretend we are only playing by ourselves. Either way it's wrong."
"Very likely," said Lewis carelessly. "That's your affair. It's too late to draw back now."
There was a silence, during which the three Wests heartily repented their naughty folly in having secretly made such an undesirable acquaintance.
Presently there was a heavy footstep in the yard below.
"What's that?" whispered Lewis, in a very different voice to the bullying accents in which he had just been speaking.
"It is Barton driving the cows into the yard to be milked," replied Madge softly. "He always does it about this time."
"But how am I to get down the ladder to go home if he is standing at the bottom?" inquired Lewis nervously.
"I never thought of that! He will be in the yard for the next hour," answered Madge. "Of course we don't mind passing him, because we are allowed to play up here; only he doesn't like us making the hay as untidy as it is now. But I'm sure you can't get down without being seen."
"You won't all run away and leave me caught like a rat in a trap, will you?" begged Lewis, almost whimpering with fright.
"Is it likely?" replied Madge in her finest tone of scorn. "Stay quiet," she added with contemptuous kindness, "and we will get you out of it somehow."
It is in moments of peril that a true leader shines most. While Lewis lay cowering behind the straw, and the twins waited expectantly for some suggestion, Madge calmly looked round the loft and originated a plan. "I know how you can get away," she said, after some moments of earnest thought. "There is that little door at the back of the loft, it does not look out into the yard but out upon the hay-ricks, in fact that is where they put the hay up into the loft. If you get down that side Barton can't possibly see you while he is milking the cows in the yard."
"Oh, that's a capital idea! I'll go at once!" cried Lewis. "Not that I am really afraid of your old man or anybody," he added, with a return of his customary boastful manner. "Only I don't want to get you all into trouble."
"You have become very brave all of a sudden," said Madge, who by this time heartily despised him for his mixture of bragging and cowardice. "It's fortunate you are not afraid of anything," she added rather maliciously, "because you see there is no ladder outside this door, so you will have to drop down to the ground as best you can."
"It isn't very far, I suppose?" asked Lewis anxiously. But when the loft door was at last opened—rather a difficult job to accomplish quietly, as the hinges were rusty and would creak,—he declared that he could not possibly get down without a ladder.
"But you must!" exclaimed Madge impatiently. "It's your only chance of getting away without being seen."
"I shall be hurt! I know I shall!" moaned Lewis, as he drew back with a shiver from the open door.
"It isn't so very far," said Betty encouragingly. "Not higher than a room, I think."
Still Lewis hung back. "Oh, dear Madge," he whined, "couldn't you manage to carry the ladder round from the yard to the door at the back?"
"Well, if you can't possibly get down without it I will try!" said Madge desperately. "Betty and John must come with me, as the ladder is so long I can't carry it alone. I am afraid Barton will make a fuss when he sees us moving it, though."
"Oh no, he won't! I dare say he won't notice you," asserted Lewis, only intent on his own safety, and not caring in the least what risks other people ran on his account.
But in the excitement of the moment the children had raised their voices rather loudly, and Barton heard them as he milked the cows in the yard below.
"Now, you young ladies and Master John, you are breaking that straw all to pieces, I'll be bound!" he shouted. "I'll be up and see what you are about directly I've done with this cow, that I will! Tossing the hay all over the floor, when it was only put tidy the other day!"
"Will he come up really?" whispered Lewis, white with terror. "Yes? Oh, help me to get away! Help me!"
"I will try," said Madge, once more taking the lead; "but you must do as I tell you. Now if you had a rope to hold on to do you think you could get down to the ground?"
"Yes, I think I could. But where is the rope? Please be quick!"
"Of course we can't get a rope here!" answered Madge sharply. She was losing all patience with this coward, who only thought of his own comfort and safety. However, she had pledged herself to do her best for him, so she continued: "We will tie all our pocket-handkerchiefs together. They will reach a good way towards the ground."
This really seemed an excellent idea, although when it came to be worked out John could not make any contribution, having left his handkerchief in the pocket of another coat. The knots also took up a terrible amount of material, so that the completed rope was not a very long affair.
"Do you think it is strong?" asked Lewis nervously. "And that you can hold my weight?"
"No fear of that!" Madge squatted down by the door, Betty held her firmly by the waist, and John tugged at the back. "Now we are ready," they said.
There was really no excuse for any further delay. Lewis desperately seized the end of the knotted handkerchiefs and stood for a moment irresolute on the edge of the wall. Then suddenly, thinking he heard Barton coming behind him, he sprang forward with such a jerk that the handkerchiefs slipped through his fingers and he fell heavily to the ground.
"Well, that is his own fault, not ours!" exclaimed Madge. "We held the rope tight enough, and if he chose to jump in that silly way nobody could help it!" Her indignation, however, gave way to fear, as Lewis continued to lie motionless on the ground. "Is he hurt, or only shamming?" she said. "Lewis! Lewis! get up and run home before anyone sees you!" Even this appeal produced no effect on the prostrate figure, and the children became seriously alarmed.
"I don't think he can be pretending," observed Betty; "he would be afraid to lie there so near the yard. Besides, he is in such a funny position."
"I must go down and see what is the matter," said Madge decidedly. "No, I sha'n't try the handkerchiefs, we have had enough of them, and I don't think you two really are strong enough to hold me up." Without waiting to discuss the matter any further she climbed down the ladder and ran through the yard.
"Hullo, Miss Madge, where are you off to?" cried old Barton from the corner of the cow-house. "Up to some mischief again, I can see by the pace you are running? Whatever have you been doing now, I wonder?"
Madge rushed on without answering, and disappeared round the end of the buildings. Lewis was still lying in a sort of crumpled-up heap when she reached him. He did not attempt to rise or even speak when she pulled him by the arm. "I am afraid he must be badly hurt!" she cried anxiously to Betty and John, who were staring with white frightened faces from the open door of the loft above.
LEWIS WAS STILL LYING IN A SORT OF CRUMPLED-UP HEAP
"What shall you do?" they asked. "Will he get better? Can we help?"
"It's something too bad for us. I shall call Barton to look at him," replied Madge. There were exclamations of astonishment from the twins. "Yes, it's no good trying to keep it a secret about Lewis any longer," she said gravely. "Of course we shall be scolded, but that can't be helped."
When Barton came he took a very grave view of the case. "Seems as if the young gentleman were mortal bad," he said. "Better run up to the house and call someone at once. It's a question if he ever walks home again, wherever he comes from!"
"Does Barton mean he will die?" asked John in an awestruck whisper as the three children ran off for help. Nobody cared to be left behind with Barton by the side of that still figure on the ground.
"Oh no! Barton only said that to try and frighten us," answered Madge with a would-be hopeful air. But in her heart fear that Lewis was already dead so overcame all other considerations that she rushed into the house calling for help without a moment's thought of the blame she was about to incur.
Fortunately Captain West was at home that afternoon. He understood at once that somebody was hurt while doing something in the loft, and naturally concluded that it was old Barton, whose business it was to carry down the hay when wanted.
"Did he slip on the ladder?" inquired Captain West as he hurried back with the children.
"Oh no! getting out of that little square door at the back of the loft. You see, he was sliding down our handkerchiefs and they slipped—"
"Barton sliding down your handkerchiefs?" repeated Captain West in a tone of great astonishment.
"No, of course not!" laughed Madge rather hysterically. "It was Lewis—that's to say, a boy who came over the wall—when we were in the Eagle's Nest, you know."
"I don't know in the least what you are talking about," said Captain West; "but I can see he is badly hurt," he added as they came in sight of Lewis lying just as he fell, for old Barton had been afraid of trying to move him alone.
"Look here," began Captain West after a short examination of the injured boy, "you, Betty, run back to the house and ask your mother to send for the doctor. Don't frighten her more than you can help. John, go and fetch the gardener as quickly as possible; we must get this poor boy carried home and properly attended to. Now, Madge," he added when the twins had started on their errands, "collect yourself, please, and speak the truth. Where does this boy come from?"
"From Mrs. Howard's, over the wall," answered Madge quietly, though she could not help trembling with excitement. "He lives with her and is very cruelly treated, so we began to talk one day when we were in the Eagle's Nest, and—"
"That will do for the present," interrupted Captain West. "Now I don't want any of you here any more. Go off to the schoolroom and stay there till bed-time, unless I send for you."