No sooner had the jailer paid his last visit for the night than the earl removed the bars from the window, tied a couple of sheets together and fastened them, and then listened intently for the sound of the sentinel's footsteps, who was pacing to and fro beneath.
So dark was it that Lord Wintoun could not see the man, but he could hear him, and when he judged by the sound that the sentinel was at the greatest distance, he let himself down as quickly and noiselessly as he could.
A sound reached the man's ear, for he suddenly halted and called out:
“Who goes there?”
But receiving no answer, and hearing no further noise, he did not think it needful to give the alarm.
Meanwhile, the Earl of Wintoun, who had remained perfectly quiet at this critical juncture, now stole to the further side of the ward, and crept along the edge of the wall till he got within a short distance of the Gate Tower.
Here fortune favoured him.
At the very moment of his arrival, a warder who had just come from the guard-room was opening the wicket to let out some half-dozen persons.
Without hesitation, the earl mixed with the party, and though a link was brought, he escaped without attracting the warder's attention.
But another portal had still to be passed at the opposite side of the bridge, and as Lord Wintoun was marching towards it with his companions, he felt his arm grasped, while a voice whispered in his ear: