It was meant for a cart-shed, with a loft above for
hay or straw; but the cart had been lost or broken, and there was
only a heap of rubbish in the corner, by which the children were wont
to climb up to inspect their kittens. Here Rose was for a moment
startled by a glare close to her of what looked like two fiery lamps
in the darkness, but the next instant a long, low, growling sound
explained it, and the tabby stripes of the cat quickly darted across
her lantern's range of light. She heard a slight rustling above, and
ventured to call, in a low whisper, "Edmund."
"Is that you, Walter?" and as Rose proceeded to mount the pile of
rubbish, his pale and haggard face looked down at her.
"What? Rose herself! I did not think you would have come on such a
night as this. Can you come up? Shall I help you?"
"Thank you. Take the lantern first--take care. There. Now the
basket and the cloak." And this done, with Edmund's hand, Rose
scrambled up into the loft. It was only the height of the roof, and
there was not room, even in the middle, to stand upright; the rain
soaked through the old thatch, the floor was of rough boards, and
there was but very little of the hay that had served as a bed for the
kittens.
"O Edmund, this is a wretched place!" exclaimed Rose, as, crouching
by his side, one hand in his, and the other round his neck, she gazed
around.
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