'The bough's breaking; come down, sir, come down!'
'No, don't move, sir, it'll break if you do; don't stir for your life!'
'Godfrey, keep quite still'—this was from Angel. 'Betty, don't cry; please all of you be quiet, you startle him.'
'Right for you, Miss Angelica,' said the innkeeper; 'hold your tongues, you stupids, if you can. Get into the house and fetch a couple of mattresses and put them here, and look alive about it, will you?'
'You'd best stand a bit back, Miss Angelica,' said the miller, 'else you'll have young master on your head, and there'll be two of you. I'd go up after him if it wouldn't come hard on my wife and six children, one in arms. One must mind one's neck a bit when one's a father, missy.'
'I'd be up after him this minute if the bough'd bear me,' said the innkeeper doubtfully.
Angel answered none of them. She stood still with her white face raised to the little figure in his dangerous position over her head.
He was frightened enough himself now, clinging tightly to the cracking bough and looking fearfully down at the ground beneath him.
'Don't look down, Godfrey,' called Angel encouragingly; 'sit quite still, and we will help you directly.'
At the same moment Peter Rogers came suddenly pushing through the group with a rope in his hand, He said not a word but went up the tree like a squirrel.