of the moat was little more than
thrice the length of my crazy craft, in spite of whose instability
I succeeded in reaching the opposite side.

Here, however, I found that my difficulties were by no means over.
The water was low in the moat, and the bank, perfectly free from
vegetation, rose almost vertically to a height of six or eight
feet. On a moonlit night I must have been seen if the sentry had
glanced in my direction; dark as it was, I feared it was not so
dark but that my moving shape might be descried. I waited: not
hearing the sentry's footsteps, I began to fear the worst; but
finding after a time that no alarm had been given, and that all was
still about me, I first fastened the coil of bast I had brought on
my shoulders to the end of the rope where it was knotted about the
raft, and then began to clamber up the bank, somewhat incommoded by
having to keep a hold of the bast with one hand.

Careful as I was, I yet dislodged one or two clods of earth as I
climbed, which fell with a dull splash into the water. I went cold
with apprehension, and clung to the face of the bank, not daring to
make a movement. There were no fowl upon the moat; the splash I had
made was louder than any frog could have made; surely the
unaccustomed sound must this time have caught the sentry's ear! But
all was silent; maybe he was asleep; and in another few moments I
gained the top of the bank, breathless, rather, I suspect, from
excitement than exertion.

It seemed a very long time since I had left my comrades above:
doubtless it had seemed even longer to them. So, after the briefest
of pauses to recover my breath, I gave three sharp tugs upon the
bast line, which were immediately answered by three similar tugs:
this was the signal I had arranged with Joe. The tension on the
line was relaxed; Joe, hauling at the rope, was drawing the raft
gently back across the moat to its former position at the foot of
the wall. There was a short interval; then I knew from the jerking
of the bast line that a man was descending the rope, and when he
was almost level with me I saw his form very dimly. When I learned
from the cessation of the jerks that he was safe on the raft, I
hauled in my line, ferried the man across, and, leaning over, gave
him a helping hand up the bank. It was little Runnles.

"I've got my flute, sir," he whispered with strange inconsequence
as he came to my side.

"Lie on the ground and don't stir," I whispered back.

A