Parlous Times: A Novel of Modern DiplomacyWells, David Dwight
General
Parlous Times: A Novel of Modern Diplomacy
Wells, David Dwight
Diplomats -- Fiction
chance of not being seen. Drawing a long breath, and placing his foot
firmly on the first stone, he commenced the ascent. For ten or fifteen
feet it seemed an easy matter, but as he cleared the intercepting roof
peaks, and the view opened out, he fully realised his perilous position,
and a gust of wind which swayed him on his airy perch made him feel all
the more insecure. Sternly resisting the temptation to look down, and
the no less dangerous desire to hasten his ascent, he kept his face
resolutely turned to the wall, and testing carefully each ring before
trusting himself to it, climbed slowly up and up. The way seemed
endless, and when but six feet remained, two sparrows, with a whir and
rush of wings, flew angrily round his head, at what they regarded as an
invasion of their nest, and almost caused him to lose his hold in an
attempt to drive them away. And now the battlements were just over him,
projecting awkwardly from the face of the wall, and proving much higher
than he had at first supposed. But he noticed, with relief, that
directly in the line of his ascent were a pair of projecting iron
stanchions not visible from below, but evidently intended to be used in
pulling oneself up and over the battlements; a supposition borne out by
the fact that they were placed each side of a break in the stonework,
which was ornamented with a lip or step of smooth stone, evidently
intended to afford an entrance to the roof of the tower. This lip had a
slight slant upwards, and might perhaps have served a double purpose as
a drain or broad spout.
Fortunately Stanley's caution had not entirely deserted him, and he had
the good sense to reach up and test one of the stanchions before
trusting himself to it. It was well that he did so, for its fastenings
proved to be rotten with age, and the bolt giving way, it tore out in
his grasp, and flying from his hand fell with a loud clank on the roof,
forty feet below. The Secretary swayed out from the tower with the force
of the shock, and had not the topmost iron, to which he clung, held
firm, this narrative would have come to a sudden and a tragic ending.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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