“Haven’t you a rope anywhere?” George asked eagerly.

“Every rope and ladder locked up in the stable yard,” was the breathless reply, “and the men away.  This is our only chance.  Catch hold.”

As Matthew spoke, the end of the long swaying branches, swinging ever lower, came down to the roof, and a good yard or more of the greenery was within George’s grasp.  Matthew lay at full length on his collection of boughs in order that his weight might keep the ends down.  It was a precarious position truly, but Matthew was very light, and had absolutely no fear for himself.

“Lash her well to three or four of the strongest of the boughs,” he said hurriedly; “give the rope half a dozen good turns about her waist and the boughs.  They are yew and very tough.  Quick!”

Hardly knowing what he was doing, George obeyed.  He was a bit of a sailor, and in a couple of minutes he had bound the child to the branches in a way to satisfy even Matthew, who still lay amongst the foliage, some three yards away.

“Now cling for your life to the rest of the branches you’ve got, Fairburn, till I go down to the long thick arm there below.  Can you hold?”

“Yes!” cried the other cheerfully, light beginning to dawn upon him.  “I can hold on; you go down.”

Matthew moved down, and the branches, relieved of their burden, began to exert a considerable upward pull.  But the weight of the boy and the girl held down the ends, and they awaited Matthew’s call.  It soon came, though the interval of waiting seemed an age.

“Now then!” came the shout, and George could see his quondam enemy firmly seated on a stout branch that had been cut shorter, its foliage having interfered with the light of one of the windows of the library.  Matthew was sitting astride, his legs firmly gripping the branch.  “Now drop yourselves over,” he went on.  “You’ll fall right on the top of me, and I’ll grab you.  Throw one arm round Mary’s waist, and then seize the branches with both hands and stick tight.”

“I’ll stick like a leech,” George replied, “but it’s a fearful drop.”

“There’s no other way, none!  See! the blaze has caught the library roof behind you!  It will be upon you in another minute.  Drop over, for pity’s sake!”

George set his teeth, placed one arm round the child’s slender form, gripped hard a handful of the pliant boughs, and dropped over the parapet, Mary closing her eyes in her mortal fright.  With a huge swing the branches bent, and in an instant the two were swaying a good fifteen feet below, George almost jerked from his hold.  The boughs creaked but did not snap.

“Thank heaven!” cried Matthew, “I have you!” And reaching up, he got a grip of George’s foot and dragged down the swinging pair.

“Grab the branch with your legs, Fairburn! and I’ll cut Mary clear.”