Bessie tripped
lightly over them, and then turned to wait for the others. "Don't be
frightened," she said: "these rafters are as sound as the day they
were laid down. The flooring has not rotted: it must have been taken
up for some purpose. They did not know how to scamp work in those
days."
"If we fall through, where shall we go?" inquired Mrs. Parker, looking
down into what seemed deep mysterious darkness.
"Oh, not very far; but don't fall: it won't be pleasant," said Bessie:
"you would alight on very hard stones."
Mr. Forrester got on the roof first, and handed up the ladies; and
they all stood looking out over the country. It was not a cold, bleak,
snowy day, as Christmas in northern latitudes has a right to be. The
winter had been mild--one of a series of mild winters, overturning the
old traditions of frosts and snow-storms that lasted for months,
and to a great extent stopped traffic and labor, and made traveling
difficult and wearisome. This Christmas was different. The year was
dying with calmness and dignity, and with a smile on its face, as you
might take the pale gleam of sunshine to be; and if you were a little
sad in mood you could suppose there was a wistfulness in the smile
that was spread over the still, soft face of Nature. Cockhoolet stood
high, and the country immediately round it was flat, and much of it
moorland.
If you climb to our castle's top,
I don't see where your eye can stop;
For when you've passed the corn-field country,
Where vineyards leave off flocks are packed,
And sheep-range leads to cattle-tract,
And cattle-tract to open chase,
And open chase to the very base
O' the mountain.
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