first lowered to his place by the side of the window, and bracing
himself against its side with a foot on the sill he managed to
stand upright, leaning against the rope that Job Tredgold held from
above. Job had instructions when Geoffrey lifted his arm to ease
the rope a few inches so as to enable the lad to lean forward. After
two or three attempts Geoffrey got the rope to the exact length
which would enable him to look round the corner and to strike a blow
with his right hand, in which he held a stout club. Roger Browne
then descended by the aid of the other rope, and fastening it round
his body lay down astride of the roof of the window with his head
and shoulders over the end, and his pistol held in readiness.

It seemed an age to Geoffrey before he heard the sound of a footstep
in the loft beside him. He grasped his cudgel firmly and leaned
slightly forward. For ten minutes there was quiet within, and Geoffrey
guessed that the traitor was writing the missive he was about to
send to the enemy; then the footstep approached the window, and a
moment later a crossbow was thrust out. A glance at it sufficed to
show that the bolt was enveloped in a piece of paper wound round it
and secured with a string. Steadying himself as well as he could
Geoffrey struck with all his force down upon the crossbow. The
weapon, loosely held, went clattering down the tiles. There was
an exclamation of surprise and fury from within the window, and at
the same moment Job Tredgold, seeing that Geoffrey's attempt had
been successful, hauled away at the rope and began to drag him
backward up the tiles.

The lad saw a man lean out of the window and look up at him, then
a pistol was levelled; but the report came from above the window,
and not from the threatening weapon. A sharp cry of pain was heard,