Peter slammed its door to, crushing them so that he loosed his grip, with a howl.

Then, as he had nothing else, he dragged the body of the dead man on to it and left him there.
Next he rushed to the window, sheathing his sword as he ran, scrambled through it, and, hanging by his arms, let himself drop, coming to the ground safely, for he was very agile, and in the excitement of the fray forgot the hurt to his head and shoulder.
"Where now ?" asked Castell, as he stood by him panting.
"To the stable for the mules.

No, it is useless; we have no time to saddle them, and the outer gate is locked.

The wall--the wall--we must climb it! They will be after us in a minute." They ran thither and found that, though ten feet high, fortunately this wall was built of rough stone, which gave an easy foothold.

Peter scrambled up first, then, lying across its top, stretched down his hand to Castell, and with difficulty--for the man was heavy and crippled--dragged him to his side.