Fastening the sheet firmly to one of the bars, he swung himself out, slid down the rope quietly and noiselessly, and entered the water, which was so cold that it almost took his breath away. He swam a stroke or two along the wall, and waited until joined by both his comrades. Their casemate being the end one, they had but some ten or twelve yards to swim to the angle of the wall.
Another fifty took them to a point facing the cut. Fergus had paced it on the rampart above, and calculated that each stroke would take them a yard. It was too dark to see more than the dim line of the wall on the other side. He waited until the others joined him.
"Are you all right?" he asked, in a low voice.
"Yes, but this cold is frightful."
"We shall soon be out of it," he said. "Wait till I have gone a few yards, and then follow, one after the other."
The surface of the moat was so ruffled by the wind that Fergus had little fear of being seen, even if the sentry above was out and watching; but he felt sure that he would be in his sentry box, and so swam boldly across. He at once climbed onto the lower wall, and helped his two companions out. They were completely numbed by the cold.
"Come along," he said. "We are on the lower side of the cut. Crawl for a short distance, then we can get up and run, which will be the best thing for us."
In three minutes they were up on the river bank.
"Now we can change our clothes," he said. "The others will soon get wet through, but they won't be as cold as these are."
The things were soon stripped off. Each gave himself a rub with one of the dry shirts, and they were soon dressed in the double suits and stockings.