Sir Nicholas' hand had left playing with his pomander; his foot had stopped its gentle swinging, and the toe of it was firm-planted on the floor. The soldier bent to put the cover over the dish on the table. Even as his hand left the cover, and he was about to step back, Sir Nicholas made his spring, a clean, lithe spring, noiseless and sure. Before the soldier realized what had happened a pair of iron hands were choking him into insensibility, and he was half-flung, half-lifted backwards on to the bed behind him. Sir Nicholas' knee was over his dagger; he could not reach it. He could make no sound; he could only tear fruitlessly at the merciless fingers that were grasping his throat. His eyes started horribly, glaring up into Sir Nicholas' face: the last thing he was conscious of was the brightness of the blue eyes above him and the grim smile that curled Sir Nicholas' lips. Sir Nicholas' hands left the bruised throat; he stepped to the table, caught up the napkin laid ready there, and tied it expeditiously round the unconscious man's mouth. The dagger was drawn from its sheath, the key picked up from the floor where it had fallen. Holding the dagger in his right hand, Sir Nicholas went with a firm tread to the door, fitted the key in the lock, turned it, and opened the door. Outside the sentry stood, leaning on his halberd. Some instinct must have warned him of danger, for even as the door opened he turned his head sharply to see who came. He had only time to let out a startled cry, but that second's mischance brought an oath to Beauvallet's lips. The dagger went home between neck and shoulder, and the sentry seemed to crumple up where he stood. But the one cry, shrill as it was, was like to ruin all. An answering shout sounded, and from the main stairway a man came running. Sir Nicholas wrenched the dagger free, and was gone in a flash towards the south side of the building. His intention had been to get round on this side to the Governor's quarters, but now, with the alarm given, and men running to the pursuit, this was clearly impossible. He bounded up the spiral stairway at the junction of the corridors, and found himself in a similar passage to the one below, except that it was walled in, with embrasured windows over which hung heavy curtains, giving on to the court below. A cresset hung at the top of the stairs, and threw a feeble light; there was another in the middle of the corridor to his left.