She tightened her bandage and sat back, biting her lip. "What proof have you of the truth of this story?" inquired Trenchard. Throwing the blanket over his left arm and shouldering the iron bar, he again clambered up the chimney; regained the Red Room; hurried along the first passage; crossed the Chapel; threaded the entry to the Lower Leads; and, in less than ten minutes after quitting the Castle, had reached the northern extremity of the prison. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all.
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