In the angle of the south aisle and its chapel was the tiny room whence the spiral staircase started, in the thickness of the wall, up to the clerestory of the choir. It also led through a narrow door lower down, on to the roof of the south aisle. Sandy knew all the keys of the cathedral, and the place in Mr. Galton's house where each hung. The door of the little room was, however, open; Mr. Galton therefore was somewhere about, though he often lingered on his last look round. They must be quick.
In a few minutes the excited children were mounting the spiral staircase. David went first, helping Barbara's unaccustomed feet; Sandy came last, having closed the little door of communication at the foot of the stairs. They were embarked on their "climb up the mountain." Issuing through the narrow door which came first in sight, the delighted children found themselves in the wide gutter at the base of the roof. Guarded by its low parapet, it was as safe as their own garden, provided they did not attempt to climb. David gave strict orders that they were to keep under the "shelter of the forts," and on no account to show their faces to the enemy.
Up here, they were in another world—a delightful, wide, spacious world, whence they could look down on the earth they had left. The Palace grounds lay below them; beyond were the parks, intersected by their hedges, like the sections of a map. From the flat chapel roof they could see their own garden and Mr. Warde's, with the Deanery trees beyond.
"Ross, and Orme, and Barbie, remember you're our family now, and you must do what you are bid," was David's solemn reminder to them of the altered condition of things.
Up and down the children ran, with a pitter-patter of clamouring feet on the leads. Barbara was a little unhappy because she could not make as much noise as the boys, owing to the make of her shoes, and to her misfortune in having lost one in transit. Sandy set this right.
"Stop the march!" he ordered. "You'll give notice to the enemy, you duffers"—this to the wide-eyed boys—"where we are." So they stopped. Ross then proceeded to clamber on hands and knees up the incline of the roof, and, turning, to slide down on his other side. This amusement lasted all three some time. When their clothes looked pretty well spoilt, the fun palled. Then came supper, the crowning act of the evening's proceedings. After this, they intended to return to ordinary life and the earth they had left; abandoning their fortress till another opportunity arrived. They intended to be at home before they would be much missed.
But all this had taken longer than they thought, and when the "family" was called to its repast the little boys refused to be hurried. With much self-denial, this meal had been saved. They meant to enjoy it. By the time they were satisfied, the darkness and cold were beginning to be appreciably perceived.
Then Sandy hugged himself for his pioneering knowledge.
"No settlers goes wivout blankets," he announced. "Knew we should want it."
"Hurry up," David urged, beginning to be a little alarmed at the aspect of things in their aërial world. "We've got to get Barbie home. It's time to go."