For the Love of Lady Margaret: A Romance of the Lost ColonyWilson, William Thomas
General
For the Love of Lady Margaret: A Romance of the Lost Colony
Wilson, William Thomas
Roanoke Colony -- Fiction
With a bound I caught him by the throat and threw him upon the floor.
With his own doublet and some of the bedding I swiftly and quietly
bound him hand and foot and gagged him. Then picking up his helpless
body in my arms, I threw it upon the bed as though he were a bundle of
goods.
"Listen," I said in a low voice, my face within a foot of his own;
"make but one sound or attempt to escape, and I will kill thee, for I
am just outside."
Unbuckling the belt around his waist, in which hung a long dagger, I
fastened it around my own, and picking up his dark cloak and steel cap,
which had fallen upon the floor when I sprang upon him, I prepared to
take my departure.
One last look at the bound man upon the bed--yes, he was secure. A
sudden thought struck me: where were the keys? There were only a few in
his doublet, but they were small ones, evidently to the doors of the
cells. Nowhere could I find those which belonged to the great front
door, nor to the doors which led into each corridor. Well I must trust
to chance for my salvation; I would make the attempt, I could do no
more.
Crossing over to the door which stood slightly ajar, the key still
in the lock, I pushed it open and stood in the corridor, which was
deserted. I turned the key in the lock, thrust it into my pocket, and
with the cloak around my face, strode down the hall. The long passage
seemed to re-echo my footsteps as though I trod with feet of mail.
It seemed to me that all must know a prisoner was escaping. The very
walls seemed to cry "Stop!--stop!" to me as I trod by; my heart beat as
though it would burst. The jailer must hear its muffled beat--but no
sound greeted my ears, as I kept steadily on my way and stood at the
first heavy door that barred my passage.
My feeling of terror had left me, and I felt a strange exultation. If
I should escape from this black hole, I would be the first for many a
year. Of the many who entered its gloomy portals, few ever left them
alive again. They were doomed to pass their days in some dark dungeon
within its recesses, shut off from the world and all it contained.
I beat with the hilt of my dagger upon the iron-studded panel.
"Open!" I cried.
The growl of old Sir Henry answered me.
"Is it thee, Jack? Thou scoundrel! Thou shouldst have been here an hour
ago. What kept thee so long, thou dog? I will lash that lazy hide of
thine," and grumbling to himself he unlocked the door. "Why stand like
a struck boar?" he shouted at me. "Thou fool! hast thou all night to
stand there?"
And with a curse he locked the door again, and strode away with me
at his heels, leaving the man who had stood by him during his brief
monologue staring after us as we left him. He walked at a rapid gait,
I at his heels, down the long passage, speaking never a word. We
passed several guards lounging in the hall, who straightened up, all
attention, as we neared them. Evidently the old soldier kept his men
under strict discipline.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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