The Washington herald., 1915-12-12

minated
So unlooked-for q chance of reaching
the higher part Of the ruin is not to
be thrown away: and begin to srops
my way upward. foot by foot. taking
good care to keep my hand upon the
masonry as ascend, and to try every
step ere resting my full weight on it.
Seventeen steps have been counted.
and the darkness is still as intense a.
ever! when all Of a sudden my out
stretched hand. instead of touching the
wall as heretofore. encounters nothing
but empty air. Ny foot. too, hangs
suspended. finding no support: and ar
the same instance a damp, chilly. earthly
odor rises up to me from the black VOID
beneath.
Another moment. and should hav,
down which stair and wall have crashed
fallen headlong into the gloomy gulf
together.
Then sudden horror falls upon me-
and a feverish longing to be once more
In the daylight and the free air: and In
a trice I am back at the gate leading to
| the outer courtyard.
But how is this? The gate will not
open,
| i push it-shake it-kick IT with all my
rhight-but all to no purpose: and at
length. peeriny through a crack in the
woodwork. perceive that a stout
wooden bar has been set athwart il on
the outside. and that am fairly impris-
oned in the ruins,
The only door Is barred. and the wallis
are not TO be scaled. for, apart from
| their height. the gaps and clefts that
| might aid me are by ill-luck many feet
beyond my reach. the lower masonry be-
| ing. strangely enough. still sheer and
4 h.l1 ha,-.
lrS neither handhold nor foothold Of any
kind
Most unluckily- 7 have told no one
where ] was going: and when my alb
! sence begins 10 excite anxiety my friends
will have no idea in what direction TO
look for me. Moreover. the barring of
| the gate SO soon after my entrance
| plainly points to one out of two concIu-
| sions. Either the ruin has a caretaekr.
| VINO. finding the door ajar. has quieted
| ms conscience by making il fast and
has then zone about his businesS-or else
some native loafer. seeing me enter. has
shut me in. either by way Of a joke or
] with a view TO extOrt "A good heavy tin
| icr letting me out again,
| At that moment I remember that tho
, builders Of these medieval strongholds
| always made their walls lowest on the
| side facing precipice: and. hurrying
To the wall that overhanSs the ravine. I
find. TO my great satisfaction that it
| Is not only much lower than the other,
| but thickly coated with a tough cordaGs
| of ivy.
! ! have already clambered over the
| irarapet. and am Just about to let go the
/ coping stone and trust myself to the
| creepers. when | suddenly perceive that
| the ivy goes only yard Or two down the
wall. neccssitating a drop of many feet.
ON level ground this would matter
! little: but l see at once that. dropping
| from such height. ! canIiot possibly
make good my footing upon the mar
! row ledge of slippery turf along the
base of the wall. but must inevitably
! go shooting over it. down the steep
| slide of short. dry. slippery grass
| beyond. till I fall heIplessly over the
| brink of the precipice in which it
! ends.
| There is nothing for il but to
scramble back into my open-air prison
once more: but just as my case seems
utterly desperate their flashes upon
me sudden recollection OF having
/ seen under the gateway as ! entered
: two or three stout poles lying about.
! Might not one of these be long
! enough to reach the ground. and, il
! firmly planted. enable me to climb
! down without any risk of slipping
over the brink of the ledge below? In
! a twinkling ] am once more at the
Sdle winch sltnuS between me ana
| liberty.
There lie the poles. sure enough;
but at the same moment l dimIy
desCry. in dark corner beyond them.
something more satisfactory still-a
long ladder,
My satisfaction at this discovery
however. is considera bly, damped when
l find that it has lost several of its
rounds, and is altogether so rickety
and unsound that it seems doubtful
whether il will bear my weight. But,
such as il is. il forms my only chance
of escape: and with no small difficulty
| manage to hoist it over the wall. up
which it comes high enough to al
low of my lowering myself on TO its
topmost round easily enough.
moment more. and l was fairly
in for il.
Never. am certain. did a felon
doomed to the Eallows 20 up his ladder
i, with worse grace than i came down
mine. ! knew but too well what a slight
shake would suffice TO thrust 1t of the
narrow ledge upon which il rested: ana
every time it trembled (which II did
incessantly) I seemed to see myself fly
ing over the precipice below ladder ana
all. So long as the ivy lasted / clunG
as much as possible to it instead of
the ladder: but when I reached the lower
part the strain began In earnest. The
narrowneSs OF the ledge on which II rested
had forced me to plant the ladder SO
close to the wall as to be all but up
right. and as I descended the lower
rungs 1t shook more than ever, and
seemed on the point of topping over
outright. and carrying me down the
precipice along with 1t.
Twice i fairly thought myself gone.
and the third time ! was fain TO PUT
my hand through the ladder. and clutch
the wiry stem of small weed which
clung to crack in the masonry. ana
(by such trifes are the scales of life
and death sometimes turned it was that
tiny weed which saved me.
A moment later / felt my feet on
the solid ground once more. and drew
as long a breath as IL j had come up
from the bottom of the sea- I plunged
downwards through briar clumps. bitches.
olive orchards. garden patches. till at
length ! found myself safe and souno
on the broad, smooth high-road far be-
low-and / got home at last In a
most scarecrow plight, all dirt ana
scratches from head to foot, and fully
convinced that. in spite Of the sweeping
verdict of my brother traveller. there
were still. after all. some adventures to
be met with in Italy.
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