Scarcely had the Resurrection Man proceeded twenty yards along the wall, when the moon—hitherto so lovely—became suddenly obscured; and a huge black cloud swept over its face.
Tidkins cast one rapid glance upwards; and his heart leapt within him, as he said to himself, "It will be dark like this long enough for my purpose."
On he went—walking upright, and rapidly—with scarcely an unusual effort to balance himself upon that giddy height,—and stooping only when he reached any of those abrupt descents or ascents in the structure of the wall which we have ere now noticed.
And now he has gained—safely gained—the north-western angle: he is pursuing his way along the wall which looks upon Calthorpe Street.
At the slightest signal of alarm he is prepared to risk his life by leaping from the wall.
But no one observes him: it is now quite dark;—he is far away from that part of the prison where the watchmen walk;—and the street beneath is empty.
Here and there are lights in the upper windows of the adjacent houses: he can almost see into those rooms, above the level of which he is placed.
Looking to his right, he perceives the dark outlines of the prison-buildings, between which and the northern wall, whereon he is now walking, there is a considerable interval, the intermediate space being occupied by the gaol-gardens.
His heart beats joyfully—triumphantly: he has gained the north-eastern angle!
A glance to the left shows him the lights of Bagnigge Wells: before him are those of Wilmington Square; and to his right is Guildford Place.