He feared the consequences of that as much for himself as for Condillac.

Some five or six of the men he bade follow him, and never pausing to answer any of Tressan's fearful questions, he sped across the courtyard, through the kitchens--which was the nearest way--into the outer quadrangle.

Never pausing to draw breath, spent though he was, he pursued his flight under the great archway of the keep and across the drawbridge, the raising of which had been that night postponed to await the Lord Seneschal's departure.
Here on the bridge he paused and turned in a frenzy to scream to his followers that they should fetch more torches.

Meanwhile he snatched the only one at hand from the man-at-arms that carried it.
His men sprang into the guard-room of the keep, realizing from his almost hysterical manner the urgent need for haste.

And while he waited for them, standing there on the bridge, his torch held high, he scanned by its lurid red light the water as far as eye could reach on either side of him.
There was a faint movement on the dark, oily surface for all that no wind stirred.