CHAPTER SEVEN“Let me out! Let me out!” a small voice cried.
It was very early, but Pickle was already awake.
Last night Rosella had been feeling so tired that she had forgotten to pull the blanket over his cage and the rays of the rising sun had shone through the tiny window of the garret where they were staying and awakened him.
She rolled over on the lumpy mattress that lay on the floorboards and gave him a piece of bread from her last night’s supper.
“Can I have a nut?” he asked, looking at the bread with his head on one side.
“Shh, now Pickle!” Rosella whispered. “We must not wake the baby!”
But it was too late. From downstairs she could hear that young Peter was already starting to cry.
Sarah, the sister-in-law of Thomas, the gardener’s boy, had been delighted to take Rosella i
