“To cook a supper?” asked Mildred.
“No; I mean to sup within doors; only we must do some work first.”
Oliver had a steel knife; but it was too dark to look for a flint, if any other plan than a fire would do.
“Well, don’t plague any more about a fire,” said Roger, “but listen to me. Can you climb a tree? I’ll be bound you can’t: and now you’ll die if you can’t.”
“I can,” said Oliver; “but what is Mildred to do?”
“We’ll see that afterwards. Which of these trees stands nearest to the nearest of yon upper windows?”
Oliver and Mildred pointed out a young ash, which now quite bent over the water.
“That is not strong enough,” said Roger, shaking the tree, and finding it loosened at the roots. “Show me a stouter one.”
A well-grown beech was the next nearest. Roger pulled Oliver by the arm, and made him stand directly under the tree, with his sister beside him. He desired them not to move from where they were, and to give a loud halloo together, or a shriek (or anything that might be heard furthest)—about once in a minute for an hour to come, unless they should hear a rope fall into the tree, or anywhere near them. They were to watch for this rope, and use all their endeavours to catch it. There would be a weight at the end, which would make it easier to catch. Oliver must tie this rope to the trunk of the tree, stretching it tight, with all his strength, and then tying it so securely that no weight would unfasten it.
“Mind you that,” said Roger. “If you don’t, you will be drowned, that’s all. Do as I tell you, and you’ll see what you will see.”