Presently I struck out, and, with a stroke or two, came to the surface.
But no sooner did my head show above, and I draw a deep breath or twain,
looking for my enemy, than an arbalest bolt cleft the water with a
clipping sound, missing me but narrowly. I had but time to see that
there was a tumult on the bridge, and swords out (the Scots, as I
afterwards heard, knocking up the arbalests that the French soldiers
levelled at me). Then I dived again, and swam under water, making
towards the right and the castle rock, which ran sheer down to the moat.
This course I chose because I had often noted, from the drawbridge, a
jutting buttress of rock, behind which, at least, I should be out of
arrow-shot. My craft was to give myself all the semblance of a drowning
man, throwing up my arms, when I rose to see whereabout I was and to take
breath, as men toss their limbs who cannot swim. On the second time of
rising thus, I saw myself close to the jut of rock. My next dive took me
behind it, and I let down my feet, close under the side of this natural
buttress, to look around, being myself now concealed from the sight of
those who were on the bridge.

To my surprise I touched bottom, for I had deemed that the water was very
deep thereby. Next I found that I was standing on a step of hewn stone,
and that a concealed staircase, cut in the rock, goes down, in that
place, to the very bottom of the moat; for what purpose I know not, but
so it is. {11} I climbed up the steps, shook myself, and wrung the water
out of my hair, looking about the while for any sign of my enemy, who had
blasphemed against my country and the Maiden. But there was nothing to
see on the water save my own cloth cap floating. On the other side of
the fosse, howbeit, men were launching a pleasure-boat, which lay by a
stair at the foot of the further wall of the fosse. The sight of them
made me glad to creep further up the steps that rounded a sharp corner,
till I came as far as an iron wicket-gate, which seemed to cut off my