St. George and St. Michael
Page 28
CHAPTER XXVIII.
RAGLAN STABLES.
The passage for the overflow of the water of the moat was under the sunkwalk which, reaching from the gate of the stone court round to the gateof the fountain court, enclosed the keep and its moat, looping them onas it were to the side of the double quadrangle of the castle. The onlyway out of this passage, at whose entrance Richard now found himself,was into the moat. As quietly therefore as he could, he got through theopening and into the water, amongst the lilies, where, much impeded bytheir tangling roots, which caused him many a submergence, but with amoon in her second quarter over his head to light him, he swam gentlyalong. As he looked up from the water, however, to the huge crag-liketower over his head, the soft moonlight smoothing the rigour butbringing out all the wasteness of the grim blank, it seemed a hopelessattempt he had undertaken. Not the less did he keep his eye on thetower-side of the moat, and had not swum far before he caught sight ofthe little stair, which, enclosed in one of the six small round bastionsencircling it, led up from the moat to the walk immediately around thecitadel. The foot of this stair was, strangely enough, one of the onlytwo points in the defence of the moat not absolutely commanded fromeither one or the other of the two gates of the castle. The top of thestair, however, was visible from one extreme point over the westerngate, and the moment Richard, finding the small thick iron-studded dooropen, put his head out of the bastion, he caught sight of a warder faraway, against the moonlit sky. All of the castle except the spot wherethat man stood, was hidden by the near bulk of the keep. He drew back,and sat down on the top of the stair--to think and let the water runfrom his clothes. When he issued, it was again on all-fours. He had,however, only to creep an inch or two to the right to be covered by oneof the angles of the tower.
But this shelter was merely momentary, for he must go round the tower insearch of some way to reach the courts beyond; and no sooner had hepassed the next angle than he found himself within sight of one of thetowers of the main entrance. Dropping once more on his hands and kneeshe crept slowly along, as close as he could squeeze to the root of thewall, 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 theedge of the moat. This he did, and having crept round the curve of thenext bastion, was just beginning to fear lest he should find only alifted drawbridge, and have to take to the water again, when he came tothe stone bridge.
It was well for him that Dorothy and Caspar had now omitted the settingof their water-trap, otherwise he would have entered the fountain courtin a manner unfavourable to his project. As it was, he got over insafety, never ceasing his slow crawl until he found himself in thearchway. Here he stood up, straightened his limbs, went through a fewgymnastics, as silent as energetic, to send the blood through hischilled veins, and the next moment was again on the move.
Peering from the mouth of the archway, he saw to his left the fountaincourt, with the gleaming head of the great horse rising out of the seaof shadow into the moonlight, and knew where he was. Next he discoveredclose to him on his right an open door into a dim space, and knew thathe was looking into the great hall. Opposite the door glimmered thelarge bay window of which Mrs. Rees had spoken.
There was now a point to be ascertained ere he could determine at whichof the two gates he should attempt his exit--a question which, up to thesaid point, he had thoroughly considered on his way.
The stables opened upon the pitched court, and in that court was themain entrance: naturally that was the one to be used. But in front of itwas a great flight of steps, the whole depth of the ditch, with themarble gate at the foot of them; and not knowing the carriageway, hefeared both suspicion and loss of time, where a single moment might beall that divided failure from success. Also at this gate were a doubleportcullis and drawbridge, the working of whose machinery took time, andof all things a quick execution was essential, seeing that at any momentsleeping suspicion might awake, and find enough to keep her so. At theother gate there was but one portcullis and no drawbridge, while from ithe perfectly knew the way to the brick gate. Clearly this was thepreferable for his attempt. There was but one point to cast in the otherscale--namely, that, if old Eccles were still the warder of it, therewould be danger of his recognition in respect both of himself and hismare. But, on the other hand, he thought he could turn to account hisknowledge of the fact that the marquis's room was over it. So here thescale had settled to rebound no more--except indeed he should nowdiscover any difficulty in passing from the stone court in which lay theMOUTH of the stables, to the fountain court in which stood thepreferable gate. This question he must now settle, for once on horsebackthere must be no deliberation.
One way at least there must be--through the hall: the hall must beaccessible from both courts. He pulled off his shoes, and stepped softlyin. Through the high window immediately over the huge fireplace, alittle moonlight fell on the northern gable-wall, turning the minstrels'gallery into an aerial bridge to some strange region of loveliness, andin the shadow under it he found at once the door he sought, standingopen but dark under a deep porch.
Issuing and gliding along by the side of the hall and round the greatbay window, he came to the stair indicated by Mrs. Rees, and descendinga little way, stood and listened: plainly enough to his practised ear,what the old woman had represented as the underground passage to theairiest of stables, was itself full of horses. To go down amongst thesein the dark, and in ignorance of the construction of the stable, wassomewhat perilous; but he had not come there to avoid risk. Step by stephe stole softly down, and, arrived at the bottom, seated himself on thelast--to wait until his eyes should get so far accustomed to thedarkness as to distinguish the poor difference between the faint dusksinking down the stair and the absolute murk. A little further on, hecould descry two or three grated openings into the fountain court, butby them nothing could enter beyond the faintest reflection of moonlightfrom the windows between the grand staircase and the bell tower.
As soon as his eyes had grown capable of using what light there was,which however was scarcely sufficient to render him the smallestservice, Richard began to whistle, very softly, a certain tune wellknown to Lady, one he always whistled when he fed or curried herhimself. He had not got more than half through it, when a low drowsywhinny made reply from the depths of the darkness before him, and theheart of Richard leaped in his bosom for joy. He ceased a moment, thenwhistled again. Again came the response, but this time, although stillsoft and low, free from all the woolliness of sleep. Once more hewhistled, and once more came the answer. Certain at length of thedirection, he dropped on his hands and knees, and crawled carefullyalong for a few yards, then stopped, whistled again, and listened. Aftera few more calls and responses, he found himself at Lady's heels, whichhad begun to move restlessly. He crept into the stall beside her, spoketo her in a whisper, got upon his feet, caressed her, told her to bequiet, and, pulling her buff shoes from his pockets, drew them over herhoofs, and tied them securely about her pasterns. Then with one strokeof his knife he cut her halter, hitched the end round her neck, andtelling her to follow him, walked softly through the stable and up thestair. She followed like a cat, though not without some noise, to whoseechoes Richard's bosom seemed the beaten drum. The moment her back waslevel, he flung himself upon it, and rode straight through the porch andinto the hall.
But here at length he was overtaken by the consequences of having anally unequal to the emergency. Marquis, who had doubtless been occupiedwith his friends in the stable yard, came bounding up into the courtjust as Richard threw himself on the back of his mare. At the sight ofLady, whom he knew so well, with her master on her back, a vision ofolder and happier times, the poor animal forgot himself utterly, rushedthrough the hall like a whirlwind, and burst into a tempest of barkingin the middle of the fountain court--whether to rouse his mistress, orbut to relieve his own heart, matters little to my tale. There was not amoment to lose, and Richard rode out of the hall and made for the gate.