She broke from him, he supposed to leave the copse and his presence without another word. But, to his wonder and relief, she seemed as if unconscious of the offence. Only, had it been light, he might have seen how the rose of pudency had flushed suddenly to the very nape of her neck. ‘Come,’ she said, in a voice that was hardly audible. He could scarce believe his ears; but his every vein was throbbing with the ecstasy of a new revelation. He followed her, and in a moment they came down to the big tree, and stood together by the side of the moat. The tree was like a monstrous devil-fish, throwing out a swarm of tentacles, smooth and sinuous, which were heavily interlaced with others projected from the farther bank, so that altogether they formed with their sombre foliage a dense dark canopy shrouding in the black water. Of these tentacles, one, the biggest, reared itself across the moat and over the wall beyond, on which it rested, forming a sloping bridge, with at least a reasonable foothold for a passenger supporting himself by certain minor branches which could be used as handrails. It was a quite feasible way, though uninviting, and the boy waited for his companion’s verdict on it. ‘Well?’ he whispered presently. She had been silent, because it was her own voice she feared after that conscious contact; but now she rallied her self-possession. ‘I am going across, Brion. Where is the well-house?’ ‘Cannot you see it--there, among the trees? It is only its back, of course; but the leaves so hide it, it might be part of the wall. To reach the front we shall have to cross by this, and drop down on the other side. It is really quite easy, if you are not afraid.’ ‘I am going over.’ ‘You mean it, Joan?’ She laughed, as they had been talking, low and thrillingly, and the next moment was on the branch. ‘Wait, while I stand by you,’ he said, all a’quiver. ‘Hold firm, Joan. God a’ mercy, if you should slip and fall into the foul slime!’ She laughed again: that was a practical contingency, with nothing supernatural about it, and the fear of it helped her to steadiness. But they won across easily enough; and, as to Brion, he took the branch like a squirrel, and, once over the wall, jumped down and held up his arms to help his lady alight. And in another moment they stood together, hand in hand, before the open portal of the well-house. ‘Joan! You are not going in?’ ‘Why not?’ ‘Does it not make your marrow crawl? I would I had your courage.’ ‘Brion, I will tell you the truth. It is not courage but curiosity. I think for that a woman would dare to call up the devil. Is it there, indeed, where the poor pitiful maid was cast?’ ‘So old Harlock says.’ ‘It may not be true. What was that?’ ‘O, Joan, in God’s name, come away! Did you hear it? It was the horrible laugh again.’ ‘Well, I am going to look.’ He clutched at her, but she eluded him, and, slipping into the chamber, bent over the well-rim.