‘Cannot you see it—there, among the trees? It is only its back, of course; but the leaves so hide it, it might be part of the wall. To reach the front we shall have to cross by this, and drop down on the other side. It is really quite easy, if you are not afraid.’
‘I am going over.’
‘You mean it, Joan?’
She laughed, as they had been talking, low and thrillingly, and the next moment was on the branch.
‘Wait, while I stand by you,’ he said, all a’quiver. ‘Hold firm, Joan. God a’ mercy, if you should slip and fall into the foul slime!’
She laughed again: that was a practical contingency, with nothing supernatural about it, and the fear of it helped her to steadiness. But they won across easily enough; and, as to Brion, he took the branch like a squirrel, and, once over the wall, jumped down and held up his arms to help his lady alight. And in another moment they stood together, hand in hand, before the open portal of the well-house.
‘Joan! You are not going in?’
‘Why not?’
‘Does it not make your marrow crawl? I would I had your courage.’
‘Brion, I will tell you the truth. It is not courage but curiosity. I think for that a woman would dare to call up the devil. Is it there, indeed, where the poor pitiful maid was cast?’