A Gentleman-at-Arms: Being Passages in the Life of Sir Christopher Rudd, KnightStrang, Herbert
History
A Gentleman-at-Arms: Being Passages in the Life of Sir Christopher Rudd, Knight
Strang, Herbert
Adventure stories; Great Britain -- History -- Elizabeth, 1558-1603 -- Juvenile fiction
I crept along by the wall, noiseless in my stockings, and coming to the
end of it, bent myself yet lower and groped towards the tree. This I
attained without having made any discovery, whereupon I turned about and
went back, taking a course somewhat nearer to the moat, and so came
again to the wall, having discovered nothing. Yet once more I sought
the tree, now choosing a course nearer to the trenches, in which
direction I heard the dull murmur of voices, yet not so near as to cause
me any present disquietude; and so I groped along the ground until I
came to a little hollow, where I halted, thinking it a likely place.
There I dug away the earth with my hands, making no more noise than a
mouse, and anon my fingers struck upon something hard and cold and
round, the which, after a little more digging with hands and dagger, I
unearthed, and found to be a round shot, as I had hoped. With this in
my hands I stole along towards the shelter of the wall.
Hardly had I come there when I heard voices, somewhat louder than those
I had heard before, and immediately after footsteps, coming towards me.
I dare go no farther, but crouched behind the brickwork, which was no
more than three spans high, holding my breath, and peering over the
jagged edge of the wall. And I beheld three men as black blots moving
in the darkness towards the very spot I had lately left. One of the
three held a dark lantern, by whose light, turned from the city, the
others began to search the ground. I heard them utter words of
satisfaction when they came to the hole, and then I could not forbear
chuckling, for the men, probing with their pikes, and finding nothing,
let forth cries of astonishment, together with an oath or two. They
consulted one with another, and one proposed that they should search
around; but this the man that held the lantern scouted, declaring that
he had no manner of doubt the place where they then stood was the end of
their quest. Nevertheless his comrades prowled and probed, now to the
right, anon to the left, and once came so near me that I gripped my
dagger tight, ready to buy my safety with good steel. But they
withdrew, and stood for some while talking together of this strange
thing, and presently gat them back to their trenches, in marvellous
puzzlement.
[Illustration: I BEHELD THREE MEN AS BLACK BLOTS MOVING IN THE DARKNESS]
Thereupon I crept back to the moat, carrying the shot, and having swum
across and recovered my boots, the which I could not pull over my wet
stockings, I clambered up between the balks of timber, looked about to
certify myself the coast was clear, and hastened by the same circuit to
the widow’s house.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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