“No,” said Arthur; “it might get shaken off, and then good by to the old Academy. In a quarter of an hour, that old tinder-box below would be in flames. Put it over there on the floor. Never mind whether it throws up any light or not. We can all go up in the dark just as well.”
Tom thereupon put his lamp on the solid floor of the garret; and after this the whole party walked the plank, and reached the foot of the ladders that ran up to the cupola. There were two of these, and in climbing up, one had to work his way through a net-work of beams. In the daytime this was troublesome enough to an unpractised hand, and in the dark would have been impossible. But these boys knew every inch of the way, and could go up almost as easily in the dark as in the light.
Bart went first, Bruce next, then Arthur, then Phil, and Tom came last. The first ladder was slightly slanting in one direction, and terminated at a narrow board, from which the second ladder went up slanting in an opposite direction to the cupola. They went up quite nimbly and rapidly, considering the total darkness, and soon reached the cupola.
Bart was up there first.
In the middle of the cupola, and hanging immediately over the opening through which they came up, was the great bell, whose deep, solemn tones were familiar enough to them from the summons which it hourly sent forth during term time, but whose solitary knell, sounding as it lately did in the stillness of the night, had struck such sudden awe into their hearts. All around the bell was room enough to walk, and to look out of the windows of the cupola.
Bart had reached the cupola first, and he at once walked round it to find if any one was concealed here. The circuit was made by the time Bruce had come up, who immediately went round, as Bart had done. Then the others came up.
“Well,” said Phil, “what’s the luck?”
“There’s no one here,” said Bart.
“Have you felt everywhere?”
“Yes.”