Adventure Magazine Cover, August 18, 1921 — page 51: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Murkwood Spears Richard; that when he, Geoffrey, had sup- posed his uncle fighting by Gislac’s side in High Tower, Sir Richard had never come to his bedside. It was true then. His uncle, the friend and comrade of his boyhood, was false to him. His uncle had struck at his life! Geoffrey stood motionless, anguish in his eyes. Gislac had one arm about his shoulders, supporting, comforting him. ““Come, lad!” he said. ‘‘We must make haste, if we would live. Come!’ Gislac repeated, groping about in his mind for something that would rouse Geoffrey from his grief. IT WAS time to go. Loud voices (AK) «could be heard from the park below. ~ The monk shifted from one foot to the other in his anxiety, imploring them to make haste. “Come, or you will not live to find Mar- garet,”’ Gislac urged. Starting from his stupor, Geoffrey re- sponded to her name rather than to the urgency in Gislac’s voice. A startled back-glance down the corridor assured the monk that the pursuit was not _ immediately on their heels. “Speed!” he begged them. “The prior can not hold them from the search for long!” He turned to the northern corner of the building, where the corridor angled over what had been the north cloister before it had been roofed in. Somewhat less than halfway along it he drew a taper from the folds of his robe, looked furtively about and ignited the rush with flint and steel. Hold- ing the light to the floor close to the outer wall, for there was neither window nor sun-port to let in the light of day, he ran his fingers along the surface of several stones. ‘Tis here!” he exclaimed in vast relief; and as he spoke, one whole slab turned un- der his hand. ‘The prior had it built against just such happenings as this. We have sheltered fugitives before now. You will come out by the river; we will bring you food.” He held his taper to the opening, a square orifice just large enough for a man to enter by stooping. Sir Giles ducked and was through, holding out one hand for Geoffrey. Following, the young man found 45 himself at the head of a steep and narrow stairway, built between two thicknesses of wall. As the fugitives found their footing, the monk’s hand and rush-light disappeared. The stone was back in its place above them. “I wondered,” Gislac commented, “why so well-made a cloister had been walled up. Brother Matthew may well have had full many a man to hide since Stephen came to curse England. Steady, lad! Hold to me.” For all of two score steps they descended; till Sir Giles, thrusting forward for the step, set his foot down hard on the level. He groped out and found a railing, moist to the touch. “Turn!” he directed. ‘So! Now we are beneath the earth’s surface. Feel how damp it is, and smell the mold! Breath of the saints, how deep must we go?” But as he spoke, he felt a puff of fresher air strike his cheek and turned in its direc- tion, drawing Geoffrey after him. They emerged into a low straighttunnel. There was now no foulness in the air, but almost a breeze from somewhere out-of-doors. In a few moments they saw the stars and came out of the tunnel into a thicket of reeds. They could hear water splashing softly near by. “That is the river,” Sir Giles whispered. ‘‘We had best move to one side of this pas- sage, so that we may slip away if any should follow.” It was not hard to find a comfortable place among the reeds. The unusually warm Summer had shrunk the stream, so that they were quite dry; and they gathered some of the dead reeds and made of them a soft bed. ‘They lay there for what seemed hours, till their excitement passed, and they began to talk in low whispers. Suddenly Gislac hissed softly, and Geof- frey was still. Waiting anxiously, they presently heard stealthy movements among the rushes. Gislac flattened himself and slowly, with infinite pains, wormed toward the sound. Minutes passed breathlessly. Then a harsh voice swore close at hand. Geoffrey put out his hand but could not touch his companion. It was too dark to see. Strange thoughts, ominous of evil, haunted his brain. Then something pounced softly. There was a muffled sound as of something threshing about among the reeds, and silence. Comicbook C©