I was not the sort of man who would buck against what was expected of him. I would wait to be rescued from this house, and then I would make my excuses, quit the country, and go back to town. Someday, I would marry my cousin Anne de Bourgh.
The thoughts seemed to soothe and settle me, as if I now knew that everything would be all right, back to normal, and I burrowed into the blanket, careful not to touch Elizabeth in any way, and I feel asleep.
Morning came.
We were hungry.
There was no sign of anyone in the woods looking for us.
We exchanged several anxious conversations about this over the ensuing hours. I went and inspected the drop from the stairs again, pronounced it impossible, and resolved to look at it no further.
By late morning, however, we were both beginning to feel real worry. It was beginning to seem a rather desperate situation. We had no access to water, for instance, and we were beginning to feel quite thirsty. I did not know how long a person could go without water, but I suspected that it wasn’t very long.
It seemed so ridiculous, dying of thirst in a house not a half mile from the house where we were meant to be staying. Such a thing could not be possible, could it?
I went to look at the drop again.
Elizabeth said I would be no good to anyone with broken legs.
I said maybe we could somehow fashion the blanket into a ladder.
She said that we should have nothing to cover us if we had to spend another night there.
I said we could not spend another night there.
I went into the other bedchamber, the one with the broken bedframe. I opened the windows there, and that was where I found the trellis. It was the kind that is crossed in squares, that looks like a ladder. It had been here all along.
Swearing softly under my breath, I swung a leg out of the window.
“But what if they are rotted through?” said Elizabeth softly.
“One may be, but I shall catch myself on the next one,” I said, beginning to climb down. “They actually feel quite steady. You might be able to manage it behind me if you like.”
She peered down after me as I descended, biting her lip. “Truly? You think it will not break?”
“Perhaps one of us at a time, I suppose,” I said, continuing to climb down the trellis.
In moments, I was on the ground. I swore again, perhaps not quite under my breath.
She heard me. She let out a little laugh.
“Apologies, madam,” I said. “It is only that this was here all along and we did not know of it, and did not even explore this room, and I feel quite stupid.”
“Yes, so do I,” she said. “I was too intent on keeping you from jumping that I did not think to look for other solutions.” She disappeared from the window, and then her foot appeared.
“Ah, good!” I said. “Come on down, then, Miss Bennet.”
She eased her way out of the window and then let out a cry.
“Are you all right?”
“I’ve never climbed something straight up and down like this. Ladders are usually propped at an angle,” she said tightly. “My skirts seem in the way.”
It had been easy for me, but I didn’t have any skirts. Still, I knew the way of it in situations like this, when someone was panicking, was to be the calm voice of reason and authority. This would give her strength. So, I said, “It’s all right, you’re doing just fine. One foot after another, that’s all.”
She looked up at the window. “I wonder if I should climb back up.”
“No, no, you can quite do this. Another step down.”
