“And you are quite alone?” said Fred at last.
“Yes, all but the women; but I knew you’d come over, and I lay wait for you, as soon as I saw you crossing the park.”
“Well, what shall we do?”
“Let’s fish.”
“Come along, then. Got any bait?”
“No; but we’ll make Nat dig us some worms. Let’s go and get that mattress first. It belongs to the spare-room.”
No sooner said than done. The two boys ran down the broad oaken stairs, leaping the last six, and, each seizing one corner of the mattress, they trailed it up the stairs, along the gallery, and into a sombre-looking room, after which Fred rushed to the top of the staircase, seated himself astride the broad balustrade, and began to glide down, but only to be overtaken by Scarlett, with the effect that the latter portion of the descent was achieved with additional velocity.
The ride was so satisfactory, that it was tried again and again, sometimes one first, sometimes the other.
“Wonder whether I could travel all along the gallery and down to the bottom, hanging on to the balusters,” said Fred, looking up at the turned supports, which grew thin in one place, and offered a tempting grip for the hands.
“Try,” said his companion.