The primal instinct of self-preservation being thus fulfilled, I returned to my scheme. With my unshod feet I walked slowly up to the guard-house, whence issued unmistakable sounds of deep slumber. I even ventured to peep through the open window, so as to catch a glimpse of four or five soldiers within, all sleeping on mattresses beneath the subdued rays of a great guard lanthorn. Quitting the building I found no obstacle in crossing the bridge, but soon after reaching its farther end I nearly met with an unexpected calamity. Groping in the gloom of a thicket of pines I suddenly felt my movements hampered, to discover just in time that I had inadvertently stumbled against a stout cord. There could be little question as to its import and object; it was a cord of intercommunication that was stretched from the temple above to the guard-house below. My good genius was certainly in close attendance on me that most memorable night, for had I tripped over this rope and set the alarm signal in motion, there could have been only one result to my escapade. As it so happened, I was not a little assisted by my discovery. In the first place, I neatly severed the cord itself, and then proceeded to fasten each of the divided ends with a clove hitch to a bough so that in the possible event of the guard at the bridge or the watchers in the temple wishing to communicate, their efforts would be nullified. Also I perceived that by following the direction of the cord, I should pursue the easiest way of ascent to the temple itself.