'It's all dark,' said Jack; 'the cathedral lights are out, and everybody's gone home; whatever shall we do?'
The two little girls sat down on the bottom step, and cried and sobbed as if their hearts would break.
'What's the use of crying?' said Jack, rather angrily; 'what we've got to do is to try to get out. Let's climb up again, and get out on the roof; maybe we can make some one hear if we shout loud enough.'
'It's so dark up there now,' said Sally, glancing fearfully at the narrow, winding staircase; 'we can't see our way a bit.'
'Never mind that, we can feel,' said the boy; 'come along.'
'Oh! I shall fall—I shall fall!' sobbed Sally.
'You stop down here, then,' said her brother. 'Poppy and I will go.'
'Oh no,—no,—no!' cried the frightened child; 'don't leave me; I don't want to stop here by myself.'
Very slowly and carefully the three children felt their way up the steep steps, and many a tear fell on the old stones as the girls followed Jack. It seemed a long, long way to them, far farther than it had done before; and the wind, which had been rising all the afternoon, came howling and whistling through the narrow window-slits in the tower, and made them cold and shivering.
At last they reached the open place on the roof, but they found it was impossible to stand upon it; such a hurricane of wind had arisen, that they would have been blown over had they tried to leave the shelter of the tower. So all they could do was to remain where they were, and to shout as loudly as they could for help; but the cathedral close was very large, and no one passed through it on that cold, stormy evening, and the street was far away—so far that the voices of the children could not be heard by the passers-by, but were drowned by the noisy, blustering wind. They shouted until they were hoarse, but no help came, and at last even Jack was obliged to acknowledge that he was afraid there was no help for it, but that they must make up their minds to stay there for the night.