Great Britain -- History -- House of York, 1461-1485 -- Fiction
Ah! my children, ye know not how trying was that indifferent walk. How
sore was I tempted to break into a run, in a mad effort to leave that
awful place behind me. But then, had I done so, I had not lived to see
the setting of another sun. As we passed beneath the great portcullis
I glanced back to where we had left the sentry. He was still standing
beneath the light and gazing after us. No doubt he wondered who we
were; but my apparent confidence and ease of manner re-assured him; for
as we turned to our left to pass the round tower which adjoins the one
in which I had been confined, he shouldered his pole-axe and resumed
his lonely tramp.
"Two difficulties safely past," I whispered. "Now, Michael, have a
great care and let not the soldier at the breach make the faintest
sound."
"Oi'll do moy bist, sor," and I felt sure he would. Then we came to
the short inner wall that runneth from the tower of St. Thomas back
unto the square tower that we had just left.
As is ever the case, when one is in great haste, I tried every key but
one depending from the ring, and still the great gate remained closed,
none of them mating the lock. When I came to this last key a sudden
horror came over me as I thought of the possibility of the whole affair
being a trap to raise my hopes in the belief that I was about to
escape, and then to have them hurled to the ground with shattering
force. My life depended on this key. Would it turn back the bars and
give me freedom and life, or would it, like the others, mock with its
silent contempt my anxiety? How I longed to know my fate, and yet
dreaded the test, lest I should fail. My hand shook as with palsy, and
made it well nigh impossible for me to insert the key. Then 'twas in
the lock; and still I did not turn it.
Verily, I have faced the deadly cannon, oft, and yet have felt no
anxiety nor fear. But now, as I stood before that heavy gate, with the
key already in the lock, requiring but a turn--that is if it did
work--to set me at least nearer unto liberty, my courage did forsake
me, and I really feared to turn the key.
Some there are, I know, who will say it was unmanly in me to thus
hesitate. Mine answer, in advance, is:--Let them but place themselves
in the same position and see then how they will act. It requires but
little courage to tell what one would do; but it is different when one
doth face the reality and not the argument.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account