d quite low down on a level
with the floor. Raymonde went on her hands and knees to investigate.
It was secured with a bolt, which she easily opened. To her surprise,
she found herself looking out upon the roof. Whether it had been
constructed in past days to provide a means of escape from danger, or
merely to allow workmen to replace loose tiles, it was impossible to
say. It was certainly within the bounds of probability to imagine a
Jacobite, with a price set on his life, creeping through the little
opening to find a more secure hiding-place among the twisted chimneys,
while King George's soldiers searched the mansion below.

Raymonde put her head out. The roof sloped steeply up in front. To a
girl of her temperament the temptation to explore farther was
irresistible. She squeezed through the small door, and wriggled out on
her hands and knees on to the tiles.

She was in the angle of a small gable. She could see roof all round
her, and sky above. Still on hands and knees, she began to creep
upwards. The weather-beaten old tiles had mellowed to dull red and
orange, and were partly covered with moss. She could not help admiring
the artistic beauty of their colour. She reached the ridge, and peered
over. Apparently she was somewhere in the middle of the roof, for a
tall, twisted stack of chimneys reared itself close by, and gables
spread on all sides. She went cautiously down the next incline, and up
to the summit of a further ridge, which was higher. Here, by standing
up and holding on to a chimney ledge, she had an excellent view. She
could not see the courtyard, but she could command the bottom of the
orchard, the moat, the fields that led to the river, and the cliffs
and woods beyond. It was quite a bird's-eye prospect. She seemed to be
looking on to the top of everything. The cattle in the meadows
appeared mere specks, and a cart and horses passing over the bridge
were like a child's toy. It was fascinating to watch them vanishing
down the road.

Raymonde was in no hurry to return. She stood for quite a long time
enjoying an exhilarating sense of being on the summit of a mountain.
At last the recollection that it must be nearly preparation time
recalled her to the necessity of departure. With a sigh of regret she
dropped back on to the ridge, and crawled over the gables again. She
was sure that she had left the little door open behind her, but when
she approached it she saw that it was shut. Perhaps the wind had