d women. With Nancy on one memorable day he
crossed the river and disembarked on the other side and walked through
the field of cows, through the meadowsweet and purple loosestrife and
spearmint. Then they picked blackberries and dewberries by the edge of
the wood and walked on beneath the trees without caring about
trespassing or tramps or anything else. On the other side they came out
at the foot of the high hill. Up they walked, up and up until they
reached the grey tower at the top, and then, to Michael's amazement,
Nancy produced the key of the tower and opened the door.

"Can we really go in?" asked Michael, staggered by the adventure.

"Of course. We can always get the key," said Nancy.

They walked up some winding stone steps that smelt very damp, and at the
top they pushed open a trap-door and walked out on top of the tower.
Michael leaned over the parapet and for the second time beheld the
world. There was no sea, but there were woods and streams and spires and
fields and villages and smoke from farms. There were blue distances on
every side and great white clouds moving across the sky. The winds
battled against the tower and sang in Michael's ears and ruffled his
hair and crimsoned his cheeks. He could see the fantail pigeons of
Cobble Place circling below. He could look down on the wood and the
river they had just crossed. He could see the garden and his dearest
Miss Carthew walking on the lawn.

"Oh, Nancy," he said, "it's glorious."

"Yes, it is rather decent," Nancy agreed.

"I suppose that's almost all of England you can see."

"Only four counties," said Nancy carelessly. "Berkshire and I forget the
other three. We toboggan down this hill in winter. That's rather decent
too."

"I'd like to come here every day," sighed Michael. "I'd like to have
this tower for my very own. What castle is it called?"

"Grogg's Folly," said Nancy abruptly.

Michael wished the tower were not called Grogg's Folly, and very soon
Nancy and he, shouting and laughing, were running at full speed down the
hill towards Cobble Place, while the stalks of the plantains whipped his
bare legs and larks flew up in alarm before his advance.

The time of his stay at Cobble Place was drawing to a close: the hour of
his greatest adventure was near. It had been a visit of unspoiled
enjoyment; and on his last night, Michael was allowed for a treat to
stay up to supper, to sit at the round table rose-stained by the
brooding lamp, wh