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Updated: June 26, 2025
He felt tempted to do so, for it was to Surendra Nath's ingenuity in interpolating the incident of the key into a well-known story that he owed the clay pattern of the warder's key. But Surendra Nath was excitable; he was quite capable of uttering a yell of delight that would waken the other men and force a premature disclosure.
Naworth's halls are dead, Willy, Naworth's halls are dead; One lonely foot sounds on the keep, And that's the warder's tread. The moon shone clearly; the tempest had lulled, and the silvery voice of the girl was all that could be heard above the distant rumble of the ghylls and the beat of Ralph's heavy footsteps.
"By Heaven, young man," said the steward, with a look of bitter malignity, "if thou darest to attempt any treachery towards the House of Lochleven, thy head shall blacken in the sun from the warder's turret!" "He cannot commit treachery who refuses trust," said the page; "and for my head, it stands as securely on my shoulders, as on any turret that ever mason built."
Outside the gates of Nottingham town they were halted. "Who comes here?" asked the warder's surly voice. "Open to the King of England!" came back the clear answer, and the gates were opened and the bridge let down without delay. Almost before the company had crossed the moat the news spread through the town like wildfire. "The King is here! The King is here, and hath taken Robin Hood!"
He had now drawn the warder over him, holding up his chest with one arm, had also poured chloroform upon the rag, and when the convict- orderly came, Hogarth, by means of a short struggle, had him asleep, then seized the warder's truncheon and keys, and ran out in his stockinged feet. At that sight, the sick, the dying, the two rows of stretchers, were up on elbow, gazing with grins.
Aumerle gave him time to mount the stairs to assume his riding-suit, and then himself went quietly to the stable, saddled a fleet barb, and rode for his life to Windsor. "Who goes there?" rang the royal warder's challenge. "The Lord of Rutland, to have instant speech of the King. Is my gracious Lord of York here?" York had not arrived, and his son was safe.
Menacing and abusive, as the vehicle stopped, the warder's hand sought one of his pockets, when the young girl impetuously caught his arm, clinging to it tenaciously. "Quick! Mr. Saint-Prosper!" she cried, recognizing, as she thought, the voice of the soldier. "You wild-cat!" her jailer exclaimed, struggling to throw her off. Not succeeding, he raised his free arm in a flurry of invective.
Arthur struggled desperately for breath as another handful of water was dashed into his face. The blackness seemed to fall away from him in pieces with a rushing noise; then he woke suddenly into full consciousness, and, pushing aside the warder's arm, walked along the corridor and up the stairs almost steadily.
Though he employed all the colloquialisms which were common, his tone was that of a man of education, and yet there was something in his address which told John as clearly as though the man had confessed as much, that he had never occupied any social position in life. The warder's step on the stones outside reduced them to silence. Suddenly his voice came up the stairs.
She could fulfil her design only by riding; but the warder's wife reminded her that it would be contrary to custom nay, scarcely possible to appear before the Emperor, or even his sister, in a riding habit. But the young girl speedily found a way to fulfil her ardent wish to aid.
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