Rofflash descended the uneven loose bricks of
the narrow winding staircase into the dungeon-like apartment. The stone
floor was not much above the level of the river at high tide and a
lancet window on each side of the bridge admitted a glimmer of light in
the day time. It was now pitch dark.
Rofflash groped his way over the slimy floor to a small door which he
knew opened on to an abutment between two arches. He only did this by
feeling the wall as he went. He hoped when outside to hail a passing
wherry. At any rate it was unlikely his hiding place would be discovered
by any of the mob.
In the meantime the shop and room above were filled with a rabble more
than half of which was out for plunder. Mountchance was lying on the
floor unconscious, but no one bothered about him. In the opinion of some
it was perhaps as well, as he would be unable to prevent them doing as
they liked. This opinion was not held by Sally Salisbury. She was
convinced Rofflash was in the house though she had not seen him actually
enter. It angered her to think that Mountchance who could have told her
anything was as good as dead. She called upon the crowd to search for
the murderer but they turned a deaf ear to her entreaties. They were
much more interested in looting the place; and finding the iron bound
coffer and hearing the chink of coin within, they attacked it savagely
and succeeded in smashing the lock.
Pages:
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306