The next morning when Poppy woke she
felt as if she had had a bad dream. Her mother’s
words the night before came back to her mind.
’I think I am going to die and leave you all.’
It could not be true, surely! She raised herself
in bed and looked round. Her mother was up already;
she could hear her moving about downstairs, and she
had lighted the fire, for Poppy could hear the sticks
crackling in the grate. The twins were still
asleep, lying in bed beside her, and the child peeped
at their little peaceful faces, and stooped to kiss
Elijah’s tiny hand, which was lying on the coverlet
of the bed. They knew nothing about it, poor
little things. It could not be true, Poppy said
to herself; her mother could not be going to die;
she must have dreamt it all.
She crept out of bed very quietly,
so as not to wake the babies, dressed herself, and
went downstairs to help her mother to get breakfast
ready. But she found everything done when she
got into the kitchen, the cloth was on the table,
and a cup for Poppy, and another for her mother, and
two slices of bread, and two cups of tea.
‘Oh, mother,’ said Poppy, ‘I didn’t
know I was so late.’
‘You’re going to have
a holiday to-day, Poppy,’ said her mother; ’do
you know it’s your birthday?’
‘My birthday, mother?’ repeated the child.
‘Yes, you’re nine years
old to-day, my poor little lass,’ said her mother;
’I reckoned that up as I was walking about with
the babies last night, and I mean you to have a rest
to-day; you’ve been a-toiling and a-moil-ing
with them babies ever since they was born; it’s
time you had a bit of quiet and peace.’
‘But you’re poorly, mother,’ said
the child.
‘No worse nor usual,’
said her mother, ’and I’ve got no work
to-day. Mrs. Peterson isn’t going to wash
till to-morrow, so you’re to have a real quiet
day, Poppy.’
But Poppy, like a good child, could
not sit idle when she saw her mother working, and
so in the afternoon, as soon as dinner was over, her
mother sent her out for a walk, and told her not to
come home till tea-time.
’There’s Jack and Sally,
they’ve got holidays, Poppy; get them to go
with you,’ she said.
Jack and Sally lived in a house on
the opposite side of the court; they went to the same
school to which Poppy had gone before the babies came,
and they had always played together since they were
tiny children.
So Poppy put on her scarlet cloak,
and the three children started in fine spirits.
It was such a bright, sunny day, and everything looked
cheerful and happy. There had been a hard frost
the night before, and the road was firm and dry under
their feet, and the three children ran along merrily.
They went a long way outside the walls till they came
to a river, by the side of which was a small footpath
following the river in all its windings, and leading
across grassy fields, which in summer time were filled
with wild flowers, and which were now covered with
pure white snow.
Oh, how much Poppy enjoyed that walk!
She had been so long shut up in that tiny house, she
had so long been imprisoned like a wild bird in a
small cage, that now, when she found herself free to
run where she liked in the clear, frosty air, she
felt full of life and spirits.
She had forgotten for a time the sorrow
of the night before. All was so bright and beautiful
around her, there was nothing to remind her of sickness
or of death. She was very happy, and skipped along
like a little wild goat.
They walked more slowly when they
got into the city again, for they were tired with
their long walk, and as they passed the great cathedral
Jack proposed that they should go inside and rest
for a little time on the chairs in the nave.
‘There’s lots of time
yet, Poppy,’ he said; ’it isn’t tea-time,
I’m sure.’
It was getting dark for all that,
and the lamps were lighted in the cathedral.
Jack took off his hat as he pushed open the heavy oaken
door, and the little girls followed him. Service
was going on in the choir, and they could hear the
solemn tones of the organ pealing through the building,
and with them came the sweet sound of many voices singing.
‘Isn’t it beautiful?’
said Poppy; ‘let us sit down and listen.’
They were very quiet until the service
was over, and when the last Amen was sung, and the
doors of the choir were thrown open for the people
to leave, they got up to go home.
But as they were walking across the
cathedral to the door which stood nearest the direction
of their home, Jack suddenly stopped.
‘Hullo, Poppy,’ he whispered,
‘look here,’ and he pointed to a little
door in the wall which stood ajar.
‘What is it, Jack?’ said
both little girls at once; ’where does it go
to? Is it a tomb?’
‘Oh, no,’ said Jack; ’it’s
the way folks go up to the top of the tower; you know
we often see them walking about on the top; my father
went up last Easter Monday. I always thought
they kept it locked; let’s go a bit of the way
up, and see what it’s like.’
‘Oh, no, Jack,’ said Sally; ‘it
looks so dark in there.’
‘Don’t be a silly baby,
Sally,’ he said. ’Poppy isn’t
afraid; are you, Poppy?’
‘No,’ said Poppy, in a
trembling voice; ‘no, I’m not frightened,
Jack.’
‘Come in then, quick,’
said the boy; ’I’ll go first, and you can
follow me.’
‘But isn’t it tea-time?’ said Poppy.
Jack did not stop to answer her; he
led the way up the steep, winding stone steps, and
the two little girls followed.
‘Jack, Jack, stop a minute!’
said Poppy, when they had wound round and round three
or four times; ‘I don’t think we ought
to go.’
‘I believe you’re frightened
now, Poppy,’ he said; ’I thought you’d
more pluck than that! We won’t go far.
I just want to get to that place on the roof where
we see the people stand when they’re going up;
it’s only about half way to the top; come on,
we shall soon be there!’
It took a longer time than Jack expected,
however, for the steps were very steep, winding round
and round like a corkscrew, and the children were
tired, and could not climb quickly. They stood
for a few moments on the roof outside and looked down
into the city, but they could not see much, for it
was getting very dark, and even Jack was willing to
own that it was time to go home.
It did not take them quite so long
to go down the steps as it had taken them to go up,
but they were slippery and much worn in places, and
the little girls felt very much afraid of falling,
and were very glad when Jack, who was going first,
said they were near the bottom.
But Poppy and Sally a moment afterwards
were very much startled, for Jack gave a sudden cry
of horror as he reached the bottom step.
The little door through which they
had come was closed. Jack shook it, and hammered
it with his fists, but he could not open it; it was
locked, and they were prisoners in the tower.
The verger who had the charge of the door had remembered
that he had left it unfastened, and had turned the
key in the lock soon after the children had entered
the tower. No one had been near when they had
crept inside, and so the verger had no idea that any
one had gone up the steps.
‘Oh! Jack, Jack, Jack, what shall we do?’
said Poppy.