"I see no beam," I said.
"Look below!" quoth Marie, stolidly,
I did so, and then saw that fifteen or sixteen feet below our
window there was a narrow beam which ran from our house to the
opposite one--for the support of both, as is common in towns. In
the shadow near the far end of this--it was so directly under our
window that I could only see the other end of it--I made out a
casement, faintly illuminated from within.
I shook my head.
"We cannot get down to it," I said, measuring the distance to the
beam and the depth below it, and shivering.
"Marie says we can, with a short rope," Croisette replied. His
eyes were glistening with excitement.
"But we have no rope!" I retorted. I was dull--as usual. Marie
made no answer. Surely he was the most stolid and silent of
brothers. I turned to him. He was taking off his waistcoat and
neckerchief.
"Good!" I cried. I began to see now. Off came our scarves and
kerchiefs also, and fortunately they were of home make, long and
strong.
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