THE BOY WHO MOUNTED IT.
It is just possible that there comes a time of life when the heart does
not beat responsively at the bare suggestion of a rope-ladder. Then a
desert island will have lost its charm, and wild beasts be no longer a
source of terror or interest. Betty and John had, fortunately for
them, not yet reached this miserable epoch. At their sister's last
words they shouted and danced about on the uneven sticks until they
were in imminent danger of falling out of the Eagle's Nest much faster
than they climbed in.
"I thought you would consider it a good idea," said Madge modestly.
"Rather! I should think so! It's the awfullest, jolliest notion! It
is! it is!" cried the twins alternately. At that moment they felt that
nobody ever had ideas quite as good as Madge's.
But presently John, as usual, saw an objection to the scheme.
"I'm afraid string won't be strong enough," he began gloomily. "It
might bear Betty's weight, but it certainly won't ours." He was at
least two inches taller, and several pounds heavier than his twin
sister, and was never tired of drawing attention to the fact.
"Do you think we are heavier than those great bundles of hay that
Barton carries on his back when he is going to feed the cows in the
winter?" inquired Madge.
John looked rather puzzled by this mysterious question, but Betty
interposed hastily: "Oh, no! They must be much heavier than us! Why,
Barton can sometimes hardly load them on his back and stoops almost
double as he walks. And I know he can carry two of us, because one day
when John and I were sitting on the pig-sty wall he came and just
lifted us off one under each arm, and carried us all the way back to
the garden as easily as possible."
"It wasn't because we were sitting on the pigsty wall that he lifted us
off," observed John. "We are allowed to sit there as much as we
like--at least you aren't, because it dirties your frocks, but I am.
It was because you were throwing stones at the little pigs and he
thought you would hurt them."
"It wasn't stones!" cried Betty indignantly. "It was little bits of
moss I picked off the walls, because they had nothing green to
eat--only--"
"Oh, children! Don't be so silly! Wrangling on about things that
don't matter in the least!" interrupted Madge in her most sensible
manner. "We all agree about the only thing of any consequence," she
continued. "The ropes that go round the bundles of hay would be strong
enough to bear us. And I know where to get them! They are coiled up
behind the manger in the cow-house, and Barton has not used them lately
as the cows are not having hay in the fields now."
After this speech the children naturally lost very little time in
running to the cow-house. There, lying in a dark corner, were several
coils of rope of unequal length, but all most reassuringly thick. They
chose out two pieces that seemed as if they had been made on purpose to
form the sides of a rope-ladder, and carried them off in triumph to the
Eagle's Nest, feeling like a successful party of marauding barons in
the middle ages. Just as they had hidden the rope in a fork of the
beech-tree the bell for tea rang, and work was over for that afternoon.
In warm weather, when the children strayed far from the house, Mrs.
West had a large bell rung outside the door at meal-times, so there was
really no excuse for not coming in. However, even with this
precaution, Miss Thompson had so frequently to wait that she had lately
made a rule to the effect that a quarter of an hour after the right
time for tea to begin the cake and jam should be sent out of the room,
and only bread and butter left. The children had been conspicuously
more inclined to punctuality since this rule was made.
Everything connected with the Eagle's Nest took much more time and
labour than was ever expected. It sounds an easy thing enough to make
a rope-ladder when once the materials have been collected. But even
with Barton's ropes, and Nurse's best ball of string, which John had
quietly brought away in his pocket, it was no simple matter. After
many days spent in faithfully following out all the directions given
for the manufacture of rope-ladders in various books of adventures, the
children produced something up which an intrepid traveller might
possibly have crawled in preference to being eaten by a very hungry
lion. With great pride they tied the upper ends of the two ropes
firmly to a bough just above the Eagle's Nest. That part of the job
was very effectually done. The children could be trusted to tie secure
knots, they had such constant practice.
"Hurrah! Finished at last!" cried Madge, giving the ropes a severe
jerk to test their firmness. "And now, who shall be the first to mount
up our new ladder?"
"Let me!" cried a strange voice.
The children started so violently that they almost fell out of the
Eagle's Nest. They looked all round in bewilderment, and at last,
directly under the beech-tree, on the other side of the wall, they saw
a boy watching them intently.
"If you will drop the end of the ladder down this way I know I can
climb up," he said. "I've been looking at you for a long time, only
you were so busy you didn't notice me. And I want to get up and have a
look at that place you have built in the tree."
Betty and John turned to Madge and remained silent. The occasion was
so strange that they gladly yielded to their elder sister the privilege
of deciding what was to be done. But for once even the masterful Madge
had some difficulty in making up her mind. There were so many things
to be considered before taking any decisive action.
Of course it would be delightful to exhibit all their inventions and
contrivances to a stranger, a boy who was apparently of an exact age to
take an intelligent interest in such matters. But then, on the other
hand, they had never been given permission to speak to this boy, and
perhaps it was not the right thing to do.
"Still, I don't remember that we have ever been forbidden to talk to
strangers, have we?" said Madge aloud. She was very anxious to be
provided with an excuse for inviting this new boy to join the party.
"No, I don't think we have ever actually been told not to speak to
people we don't know," said Betty thoughtfully. "But then, you know,
Mama and Miss Thompson would never think of our meeting a stranger in
the fields, and of course we don't go on the roads by ourselves."
This was perfectly true, but it did not suit Madge at all.
"I don't know what people think," she said impatiently; "only what they
say. And if we have never been forbidden to speak to a stranger, I
expect there is no harm in it. We are forbidden things fast enough if
they are wrong. Sometimes it seems as if there would be hardly
anything left that we are allowed to do!" She spoke rather recklessly,
having half made up her mind to do something that she knew perfectly
well was not right, and hoping by talking very loud and fast to stifle
the voice of her conscience.
"You are keeping me a precious long time waiting!" called out the boy
from below. "You don't mean to say you are such a set of babies that
you are afraid to let down the ladder for me without first running back
to the nursery to ask permission?"
At this taunt Madge became very red. "I've got nothing to do with the
nursery, and I'm not afraid of anybody!" she exclaimed. These bold
statements were not only silly but untrue; however, she did not stop to
think of that in her overwhelming hurry to convince this stranger that
she was not a little child, as he seemed to think, but a big girl with
a will of her own. "And just to show you that I needn't trouble about
anybody's permission, I invite you to join us up here," she added.
"That's right! You are a good sort, I can see!" returned the boy.
"Drop down that old ladder of yours, and I will be with you in a couple
of seconds! Now, look sharp, you two little ones. Lend a hand with
the rope, can't you! What's the good of staring at me like two stuffed
owls?"
To say the truth, Betty and John were both rather frightened by Madge's
daring behaviour. They were by no means better children than she was,
but they seldom ventured to be naughty on such a large scale as this.
When Madge's pride was once roused she never stopped to think of
consequences; but it is only fair to add, that being the eldest she
generally same in for the largest share of punishment if they all did
wrong together.
"Is he really coming up the ladder to play with us?" muttered Betty
rather breathlessly in her sister's ear. "Do you think we shall be
allowed--"
"Here, you parcel of babies, get out of the way!" interrupted the boy.
"You've got nothing to do with it. Just chuck me down the rope," he
added to Madge, "and if the babies don't like it they can run home and
play in the nursery. We don't want them interfering with us! Rather
not!"
Madge could not resist this flattering appeal. She did so enjoy being
treated as a person of some importance, and not classed with the little
ones. "Here goes!" she cried defiantly, and taking hold of the
rope-ladder she dropped the end of it over the wall.
There was an anxious struggle. The strange boy appeared very active,
for though one or two of the short sticks that formed the rungs of the
ladder slipped (for it was almost impossible to tie them securely to
the rope sides), yet he clung on with hands and feet like a monkey.
When he came within reach Madge stooped down and stretched out her hand
to him.
"Welcome to Eagle's Nest!" she said proudly, as she pulled him up to
her side in the tree.