Great Britain -- History -- Civil War, 1642-1649 -- Fiction
But this shelter was merely momentary, for he must go round the tower in
search of some way to reach the courts beyond; and no sooner had he
passed the next angle than he found himself within sight of one of the
towers of the main entrance. Dropping once more on his hands and knees
he crept slowly along, as close as he could squeeze to the root of the
wall, and when he rounded the next angle, was in the shadow of the keep,
while he had but to cross the walk to be covered by the parapet on the
edge of the moat. This he did, and having crept round the curve of the
next bastion, was just beginning to fear lest he should find only a
lifted drawbridge, and have to take to the water again, when he came to
the stone bridge.
It was well for him that Dorothy and Caspar had now omitted the setting
of their water-trap, otherwise he would have entered the fountain court
in a manner unfavourable to his project. As it was, he got over in
safety, never ceasing his slow crawl until he found himself in the
archway. Here he stood up, straightened his limbs, went through a few
gymnastics, as silent as energetic, to send the blood through his
chilled veins, and the next moment was again on the move.
Peering from the mouth of the archway, he saw to his left the fountain
court, with the gleaming head of the great horse rising out of the sea
of shadow into the moonlight, and knew where he was. Next he discovered
close to him on his right an open door into a dim space, and knew that
he was looking into the great hall. Opposite the door glimmered the
large bay window of which Mrs. Rees had spoken.
There was now a point to be ascertained ere he could determine at which
of the two gates he should attempt his exit--a question which, up to the
said point, he had thoroughly considered on his way.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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