On the evening of the day when the bodies of the two murdered Englishmen had been laid in the grave with all imaginable honour, four figures crept stealthily through the shadows at the base of the ramparts of the palace. After the funeral, in the course of a stroll round the walls, Gerrard and Charteris had refreshed their memory of the various localities. Long ago they had satisfied themselves as to the identity of the tree which masked the exit of the secret passage, and on looking from the parapet they discovered that it had survived the siege uninjured. But the hole it concealed was by no means easy to reach, since it was about half-way up the great face of wall, which was much higher on the outside than the inside. True, the stones on the surface were rough-hewn and much weathered, and vegetation of all sorts had struck its roots between them during the recent rains, but they were not too firmly fixed in their places, as a gap here and there showed. The adventurers agreed that it would be impossible to make their attempt from the inside of the fortress, owing to the strict watch maintained there, and since this decision implied a climb up the sheer crumbling wall-face from below, the help of a rope was very necessary. Since to lower one from above would have attracted attention, it was clear that it must in some way be raised from below, and the two friends had set their wits to work, with the result that when they paused--to all appearance quite casually--on the parapet and looked over at the tree, each of them drew furtively from his pocket a ball of twine. Charteris laughed. "At any rate I'm glad you haven't beat me, Hal. I could think of nothing better than unwinding the string and dropping one end on each side of the tree, in the hope that it might remain untouched till to-night. No, by Jove! I have thought of a better way. Give us your ball."