She ran along
towards the belfry, and I soon lost her, for she passed up the stone
steps, where I knew I could not follow her.
In deep mortification I stood listening at the bottom of the
steps--listening to those little feet crunching up the broken
stones--listening to the rustle of her dress against the narrow stone
walls, until the sounds grew fainter and fainter, and then ceased.
Presently I heard her voice a long way up, calling out, 'Little boy,
if you go outside you will see something.' I guessed at once that she
was going to exhibit herself on the tower, where, before my accident,
I and my brother Frank were so fond of going. I went outside the
church and stood in the graveyard, looking up at the tower. In a
minute I saw her on it. Her face was turned towards me, gilded by the
golden sunshine. I could, or thought I could, even at that distance,
see the flash of the bright eyes looking at me. Then a little hand
was put over the parapet, and I saw a dark hat swinging by its
strings, as she was waving it to me. Oh! that I could have climbed
those steps and done that! But that exploit of hers touched a strange
chord within me.
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