"Would it be possible to crawl on to the roof?"
Lindsay shook her head in reply. The frame was too small for even the slim Cicely to squeeze through. The girls sat down and surveyed the piles of treasure around them with dismay. If they had required a sermon on the vanity of riches, it was there without any need of words.
"We can't eat bank notes, nor sleep on beds of sovereigns," remarked Lindsay at last.
"We may be shut up here for days and days before they find us," said Cicely blankly.
"They'll miss us directly, of course; but they won't know where to look. Even if they peeped inside the settle, they wouldn't be any the wiser."
"Do you remember the piece of poetry we read last week about Ginevra? She hid inside a chest on her wedding day, when they were playing hide-and-seek, and the lid snapped with a spring lock. They never found her—only her bones, years afterwards!"
"Don't talk of such horrible things."
"How long does it take people to starve?" continued Cicely in a tremulous voice.
"About ten days, I believe. They grow gradually weaker and weaker."
Cicely groaned.