I wished with all my heart that I had not come, as I
groped upwards hugging the wall.
Then a cry came and a noise of hard breathing. At the same moment a
door opened somewhere above my head, and a faint glow came down the
stairs. Presently with a great rumble a heavy man came rolling past me,
butting with his head at the stair-side. He came to anchor on a landing
below me, and finding his feet plunged downwards as if the devil were
at his heels. He left behind him a short Highland knife, which I picked
up and put in my pocket.
On his heels came another with his hand clapped to his side, and he
moaned as he slithered past me. Something dripped from him on the stone
steps.
The light grew stronger, and as I rounded the last turning a third came
bounding down, stumbling from wall to wall like a drunk man. I saw his
face clearly, and if ever mortal eyes held baffled murder it was that
fellow's. There was a dark mark on his shoulder.
Above me as I blinked stood my red-haired friend on the top landing. He
had his sword drawn, and was whistling softly through his teeth, while
on the right hand was an open door and an old man holding a lamp.
"Ho!" he cried. "Here comes a fourth. God's help, it's my friend the
marksman!"
I did not like that naked bit of steel, but there was nothing for it
but to see the thing through.
Pages:
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70