When he came to the surface his hand encountered the rope, which, newly

lightened of his weight, was swinging wildly to and fro. There was a red

glow overhead, and looking up, he saw, by the light of several torches

and a cresset full of burning coals, the battlements lined with faces.

He saw the men's eyes turning hither and thither in quest of him; but he

was too far below, the light reached him not, and they looked in vain.

And now he perceived that the rope was considerably too long, and he

began to struggle as well as he could towards the other side of the moat,

still keeping his head above water. In this way he got much more than

halfway over; indeed the bank was almost within reach, before the rope

began to draw him back by its own weight. Taking his courage in both

hands, he left go and made a leap for the trailing sprays of willow that

had already, that same evening, helped Sir Daniel's messenger to land.

He went down, rose again, sank a second time, and then his hand caught a

branch, and with the speed of thought he had dragged himself into the

thick of the tree and clung there, dripping and panting, and still half

uncertain of his escape.

But all this had not been done without a considerable splashing, which

had so far indicated his position to the men along the battlements.

Arrows and quarrels fell thick around him in the darkness, thick like

driving hail; and suddenly a torch was thrown down--flared through the

air in its swift passage--stuck for a moment on the edge of the bank,

where it burned high and lit up its whole surroundings like a

bonfire--and then, in a good hour for Dick, slipped off, plumped into the

The Black Arrow