"I have her!" he cried as he got up. "Now you come yourself, Tommy."

He had known no baby but his lost sister, and thought of all babies as
girls.

"You'll catch me, won't you, Clare?" said Tommy.

"The thing you've done once you can do again! I can't set down the
baby to catch you!" replied the unsuspicious Clare, and turned to seek
an exit from the cellar. He had not had time yet to wonder how Tommy
had got out.

Tommy came tumbling on the top of the coals: he dared not be left with
the water-but and the pool and the moon.

"Where are you, Clare?" he called.

Clare answered him from the top of the stone stair that led to the
cellar, and Tommy was soon at his heels. Going along a dark passage,
where they had to feel their way, they arrived at the kitchen. The
loose outside shutter belonged to it, and as it was open, a little of
the moonlight came in. The place looked dreary enough and cold enough
with its damp brick-floor and its rusty range; but at least they were
out of the air, and out of sight of the moon! If only they had some of
that coal alight!

"I don't see as we're much better off!" said Tommy. "I'm as cold as
pigs' trotters!"

"Then what must baby be like!" said Clare, whose heart was brimful of