He heard voices above, and looking up he saw the glare of light through the opening he had battered.
And now he was surprised to feel new vigour running through him.

He had hurled himself from that window with scarce the power to leap, bathed in perspiration and deeming his strength utterly spent.

The ice-cold waters of the moat had served, it would seem, to brace him, to wash away his fatigue, and to renew his energies.

His mind was singularly clear and his senses rendered superacute, and he set himself to consider what he had best do.
Swim to the edge of the moat and, clambering out, take to his legs was naturally the first impulse.

But, reflecting upon the open nature of the ground, he realized that that must mean his ruin.