With that she crept as near the edge of the mow as she dared, and shouted: "Montgomery! Monty Sturtevant! Boy! Come back and help me down!"
While she listened for a reply she thought of the eggs she had collected for Susanna, and crawled back to find her hat and them. The hat she slipped over her head, its elastic band clasping her throat, and the eggs she stored within her blouse. They were heavy and made it sag inconveniently, but she could soon get rid of them if only that wretched little Sturtevant boy would come back. She must try again!
"Mon-ty! Mont—gom—ery!"
Nothing save the wind soughing dismally among the rafters responded to her call, uttered with her loudest voice, and a fresh shiver of fear crept over her. Then she rallied, growing angry, which, under the circumstances, was the best thing that could have happened. Her indignation made her half-forget her terror so that she could plan her descent with something like courage.
"Let me think. I noticed that the top of that straight little ladder came high above the hay, almost to the roof in one place. I'd better get on my stomach and just crawl along, ever so slowly and carefully, till I find it. But—hark! Oh, joy!"
From somewhere in the darkness below a familiar yelp and whine sounded faintly. The roaring of the wind almost drowned it, yet she recognized that Punch had traced and followed her. She had always loved him, but never had he been so adorable as at that moment. His unseen presence comforted her so that she called back to him quite cheerfully:
"Yes, you precious, beautiful dog! Mistress is up here. She's coming! Wait for her, darling, darling fellow!"
It is possible that the ugly-favored little animal appreciated this flattery, or he may have had troubles of his own which needed comforting. Since his arrival at Marsden, life had not been all chop-bones for him any more than it had been all catnip for Sir Philip, and the short, gay bark with which he now responded to his mistress' cry proved their mutual satisfaction.
At last, Katharine's cautious passage came to a pause as her fingers touched the ladder, but she realized that a misstep would send her over that precipice of hay into the bay below, which now seemed a gulf of unfathomable depth. Inch by inch, with greater prudence than she had ever exercised, she moved onward in the gloom, now become almost impenetrable, till she got one foot upon a round of the ladder.
"That's good. But I guess I'd see better if I closed my eyes, and I must go down it backwards. Now I've both feet on and—dear me! How far it is between steps. Why don't people put their rounds closer together, so they wouldn't be so hard to climb? I was never on a ladder before except a step one, and that not often, and—But I'll manage."