means of a cord. After I had secured the
keys I called in a whisper to Lady Crawford and directed her to leave the
cord hanging from the window. I also told her to remain in readiness to
draw up the keys when they should have served their purpose. Then I took
them and ran to the stone footbridge where I found four Rutland men who
had come in response to the message Dawson had sent by Jennie Faxton. Two
of the men went with me, and we entered the lower garden by the southwest
postern. Thence we crept noiselessly to the terrace and made our entrance
into the Hall by "Dorothy's Postern." I had in my life engaged in many
questionable and dangerous enterprises, but this was my first attempt at
house-breaking. To say that I was nervous would but poorly define the
state of my feelings. Since that day I have respected the high calling of
burglary and regard with favor the daring knights of the skeleton key. I
was frightened. I, who would feel no fear had I to fight a dozen men,
trembled with fright during this adventure. The deathlike silence and the
darkness in familiar places seemed uncanny to me. The very chairs and
tables appeared to be sleeping, and I was fearful lest they should awaken.
I cannot describe to you how I was affected. Whether it was fear or awe or
a smiting conscience I cannot say, but my teeth chattered as if they were
in the mouth of a fool, and my knees quaked as if they supported a coward.
Still I knew I was doing my duty, though one's conscience sometimes smites
him when his reason tells him he is acting righteously. It is more
dangerous to possess a sensitive conscience which cannot be made to hear
reason than to have none at all. But I will make short my account of that
night's doings. The two Rutland men and I groped our way to the dungeon
and carried forth John, who was weak from loss of blood. I told them to
lock the door of the Hall as they passed out and to attach the keys to the
cord hanging from Lady Crawford's window. Then I climbed to my room again,
feeling in conscience like a criminal because I had done the best act of
my life.

Early next morning I was awakened by a great noise in the upper court.
When I looked out at my window I beheld Sir George. He was half dressed
and was angrily questioning the servants and retainers. I knew that he had
discovered John's escape, but I did not know all, nor did I know the
worst. I dressed and went to the kitchen, where I bathed my hands and
face. There