The top of the porch was flat, and we could stand there better than anywhere else.
So--Tim first, I next--we clambered cautiously up, and stepped on to the ledge.

The window was fast like the rest, but it was not shuttered, and Tim boldly attacked the pane nearest to the catch with his elbow.

What a hideous noise it made as it shivered inwards and fell with a smash on the floor! "Mind now," said Tim, as he slipped in his hand and pushed back the catch.

"Lift away." It was a hard job to lift it, for the wood had warped and grown stiff in its grooves.

But presently it started, and gave us room to squeeze through into the room.
Even Tim was a little overawed when he found himself standing there in the room, scarcely changed, except for the mildew and cobwebs, from what it had been twelve years ago.
"Whisht!" said he in a whisper.