I don't think you could hear me from Mr.
Redmain's room," said Mary, with a little laugh, for she was amused as well as pleased at the protection Joseph would give her; "it is up two flights, and he chose it himself for the sake of being quiet when he was ill." As she spoke, they reached the door they sought--the most likely of all to be still open: it was fast and dark as if it had not been unbolted for years.

One or two more entrances they tried, but with no better success.
"Come this way," whispered Joseph.

"I know a place where we shall at least be out of their sight, and where we can plan at our leisure." He led her to the back entrance to the old hall.

Alas! even that was closed.
"This _is_ disappointing," he said; "for, if we were only in there, I think something might be done." "I believe I know a way," said Mary, and led him to a place near, used for a wood-shed.
At the top of a great heap of sticks and fagots was an opening in the wall, that had once been a window, or perhaps a door.
"That, I know, is the wall of the tower," she said; "and there can be no difficulty in getting through there.

Once in, it will be easy to reach the hall--that is, if the door of the tower is not locked." In an instant Joseph was at the top of the heap, and through the opening, hanging on, and feeling with his feet.