touched the bricks. His head was above the coping of the wall.

It was at this moment that he saw the lantern again, just at the corner
where he had turned. The lantern advanced slowly; it was now held aloft,
now close to the ground. Wogan was very glad he had thrown his boots
and coat into the garden. He made a few last desperate struggles; he
could now place the palms of his hands behind him upon the coping, and
he hoisted himself up and sat on the wall.

The lantern was nearer to him; he lay flat upon his face on the coping,
and then lowering himself upon the garden side to the full length of his
arms, he let go. He fell into a litter of dead leaves, very soft and
comfortable. He would not have exchanged them at that moment for the
Emperor's own bed. He lay upon his back and saw the dark branches above
his head grow bright and green. His pursuers were flashing their lantern
on the other side; there was only the thickness of the wall between him
and them. He could even hear them whispering and the brushing of their
feet. He lay still as a mouse; and then the earth heaved up and fell
away altogether beneath him. Wogan had fainted.




CHAPTER VII


It was still night when Wogan opened his eyes, but the night was now
clear of mist. There was no moon, however, to give him a guess at the
hour. He lay upon his back among the dead leaves, and looking upwards at
the stars, caught as it seemed in a lattice-work of branches, floated