the level of the ground--a long, narrow, horizontal slip, with a
grating over its small area not fastened down. He had lifted it, and
pushed open the window, which went inward on rusty hinges--so rusty
that they would not quite close again. That he had been in was a
lie. _He_ knew better than go first! He belonged to the school of
_No. 1!_--all mean beggars.

Clare hastened after him.

"Gi' me the kid, an' you get in; you can reach up for it better,
'cause ye're taller," said Tommy.

"Is it much of a drop?" asked Clare.

"Nothing much," answered Tommy.

Clare handed him the baby, instructing him how to hold it, and
threatening him if he hurt it; then laid himself on his front, shoved
his legs across the area through the window, and followed with his
body. Holding on to the edge of the window-sill, he let his feet as
far down as he could, then dropped, and fell on a heap of coals,
whence he tumbled to the floor of the cellar.

"You should have told me of the coals!" he said, rising, and calling
up through the darkness.

"I forgot," answered Tommy.

"Give me the baby," said Clare.