At first it didn't look as if he'd been doing anything, but when I came to look close I saw he had cut through the timbers of the bridge on the shore end, and had driven a big staple in on each side. On the island end of the bridge he had cut through the timbers just the same, but had hitched them together again with a couple of whopping old hinges. I couldn't see any sense to it. Mark grinned and pointed up. There, to one of the timbers supporting a balcony, was attached the pulley with the rope running through.
Every citadel has 'em.
Up comes the bridge. He took us up-stairs to the balcony and showed us how he had made a weight of an old piece of iron pipe. When we wanted to pull up the bridge all we had to do was hook it to a loop in the rope and drop it off the balcony. Mark said it was heavy enough to lift the bridge alone, but that if we were in a hurry we could pull too and yank her up in a jiffy. The rest of us were willing enough and while I built a fire the others went to peeling potatoes and one thing and another.