“My name is Strode,” he said, “Hamilton Strode. My people are Hampshire, but they’ve cut my painter and I’m adrift with one oar; ’tother slipped overboard and I couldn’t be bothered to pick it up. Still, I’m keeping on with a certain amount of vim. I was in the Scots Fusiliers till the Hebrews became too oppressive and I got a hint. Our Colonel, old Lampton, said he didn’t mind a Jew or two as a general thing; in a crack regiment it was to be expected, but when a man couldn’t go into his officers’ quarters without tumbling over the whole twelve tribes of Israel it was coming it too strong. People were beginning to make unkind remarks about the S. F. G.’s adding Houndsditch to their territorial designations, and he’d be pole-axed if the thing should go on. So I was run out, like many a better chap.”
We expressed our sympathy.
“Now,” he went on, “I dare say I am a queer member, a bad lot, and all that; but if you’ll give me your company I can show you some sport, the best in these parts, and I’ll give my parole not to try to borrow money of you.”
“All right,” I laughed, “we’ll come.”
And with that assurance he presently went off in great content.
CHAPTER XXII
THE LIGHT IN THE WOOD
After dinner I left Von Lindheim, who was tired with his long ride after a sleepless night, and set out from the inn for a closer inspection of the Monastery. It was a good night for my purpose, being bright and obscure at intervals as great banks of drifting clouds passed over the moon. I soon arrived at the gate, which did not stop me this time. I went through and began to make my way more circumspectly on the private grounds through the thick belt of wood which encircled the moat. To the water’s edge was but some two hundred paces, and coincident with my reaching it, the moon shone forth and gave me, like the withdrawing of a veil, a perfect view of the house and its surroundings. They were romantic enough. Imagine a grey, rambling pile with all the characteristics of mediæval fortified domestic architecture, toned by an ecclesiastical suggestion over all, standing insulated in the middle of a broad belt of water, surrounded again by wood growing down to its margin, and which, on two sides, after falling back for a short distance on almost level ground, rose abruptly to a considerable height, making a dark background opposite to where I stood.
Such was my general view of the place; I now proceeded to make a more detailed and practical observation. Keeping just within the obscurity of the trees I began to make my way round the moat, principally to ascertain the difficulties of approach to the building. They soon showed themselves to be formidable enough. There was in fact only one legitimate way of entry, by a drawbridge, to meet which a pier ran out half-way across the wide moat. This drawbridge, which was pulled up, was worked from a massive square tower with portcullis gate, the usual gate-house tower of fortified buildings. Not much chance of getting over there, so I went on to see what facilities the other side might present. There were none. The band of water became no narrower as I had rather hoped, and as far as I could see (for the deep shadows made accurate observation impossible) the main portion of the building rose sheer from the water. I was rather surprised at this, for I had imagined that in modern times the motive of convenience would have led to the construction of a second means of access. But there was none, and I told myself that the only way of reaching the other side unobserved would be to swim for it. A prison indeed, I thought, for that poor girl, and a secure place of execution. The idea spurred me to leave no attempt at rescue untried; accordingly, I went round the edge of the moat, searching vainly for some indication as to the most likely place where I might swim over and discover her prison. It seemed almost hopeless. Was she, indeed, still alive? She and her captors would have arrived some time that morning, and much might have happened since then. Were they here after all? The journey to the Geierthal might have been a feint. No. I argued it out, and came to the conclusion that it was genuine enough. And what better prison or death-place could these authorized murderers have desired than this? The whole affair was a hideous puzzle to me; still, I was resolved to do what I could to rescue the girl. So I determined I would lose no more time in futile speculations but would swim the moat and set to work to find her.