“Better than starving here like a rat in a trap,” returned her brother.
“Ah yes; oh yes! I will think of the cool river and the trees at the end.”
“You will find chill enough, lady, long ere you reach the river,” said Sigbert. “You must wrap yourself well. ’Tis an ugsome passage; but your heart must not fail you, for it is the only hope left us.”
The two young people were far too glad to hear of any prospect of release, to think much of the dangers or discomforts of the mode. Walter danced for joy up and down the room like a young colt, as he thought of being in a few hours more in the free open air, with the sound of water rippling below, and the shade of trees above him. Mabel threw herself on her knees before her rude crucifix, partly in thankfulness, partly in dread of the passage that was to come first.
“Like going through the grave to life,” she murmured to her nurse.
And when the scanty garrison was gathered together, as many as possible provided with brands that might serve as torches, and Sigbert led them, lower and lower, down rugged steps hewn in the rock, through vaults where only a gleam came from above, and then through deeper cavernous places, intensely dark, there was a shudder perceptible by the clank and rattle of the armour which each had donned. In the midst, Walter paused and exclaimed—
“Our banner! How leave it to the Paynim dogs?”
“It’s here, sir,” said Sigbert, showing a bundle on his back.
“Warning to the foe to break in and seek us,” grumbled Gilbert.
“Not so,” replied Sigbert. “I borrowed an old wrapper of nurse’s that will cheat their eyes till we shall be far beyond their ken.”