He had come to a halt beside a stout oaken door which was studded with great nails and set in a deep archway in that high wall. To take his moment's rest he leaned against these solid timbers. And then, to his amazement, under the weight of his body, the ponderous door swung inwards, so that he almost fell through it into a space of lawn and rosebeds narrowly enclosed within tall boxwood hedges which were very dense and trimly cut. It was as if a miracle had happened, as if that door had been unlocked for his salvation by supernatural agency. Thus thought he in that moment of exaggerated reaction from his panic, nor stayed to reflect that in entering and in closing and bolting that door, he was as likely to entrap as to deliver himself. There was a deep sill, some two feet above the ground, on the inner side. On this Bellarion sat down to indulge the luxury of a sense of security. But not for very long. Presently steps, quick and numerous, came pattering down that lane, to an accompaniment of breathless voices. Bellarion listened, and smiled a little. They would never guess that he had found this door ajar. They would pass on, continuing their now fruitless quest, whilst he could linger until night descended. Perhaps he would spend the night there, and be off in the morning by the time the gates of the city should have been reopened. Thus he proposed. And then the steps outside came to a sudden halt, and his heart almost halted with them. 'He paused hereabouts,' said a gruff voice. 'Look at the trodden ground.' That was a shrew-eyed sleuth, thought Bellarion as he listened fearfully. 'Does it matter?' quoth another. 'Will you stand pausing too whilst he makes off? Come on. He went this way, we know.' 'Hold, numskull!' It was the gruff voice again. 'He came this way, but he went no farther. Bah! Peace, don't argue with me, man. Use your eyes. It's plain to see. No one has gone past this door to-day. He's here.' And on the word a heavy blow, as from a pike butt, smote the timbers, and brought Bellarion to his feet as if he, himself, had been struck. 'But this door is always locked, and he could scarcely have climbed the wall.' 'He's here, I say. Don't argue. Two men to guard the door, lest he come forth again. The rest with me to the palace. Come.' His voice was harsh and peremptory. There were no further words in answer. Steps moved off quickly returning up the lane. Steps paced outside the door, and there was a mutter of voices of the men placed on guard. Bellarion wondered if prayer would help him. He could think of nothing else that would. CHAPTER IV SANCTUARY These grounds into which he had stepped through that doorway in the red wall seemed, so far as the tall hedges of his _hortus inclusus_ would permit him to discover, to be very spacious. Somewhere in their considerable extent there would surely be a hiding-place into which he could creep until the hunt was over.