Похищенный
Chapter 4
ThehouseofShawsstoodsomefivefullstoreyshigh,notcountinglofts.Well,asIadvanced,itseemedtomethestairgrewairierandathoughtmorelightsome;andIwaswonderingwhatmightbethecauseofthischange,whenasecondblinkofthesummerlightningcameandwent.IfIdidnotcryout,itwasbecausefearhadmebythethroat;andifIdidnotfall,itwasmorebyHeaven’smercythanmyownstrength.Itwasnotonlythattheflashshoneinoneverysidethroughbreachesinthewall,sothatIseemedtobeclamberingaloftuponanopenscaffold,butthesamepassingbrightnessshowedmethestepswereofunequallength,andthatoneofmyfeetrestedthatmomentwithintwoinchesofthewell.
Thiswasthegrandstair!Ithought;andwiththethought,agustofakindofangrycouragecameintomyheart.Myunclehadsentmehere,certainlytorungreatrisks,perhapstodie.IsworeIwouldsettlethat“perhaps,”ifIshouldbreakmyneckforit;gotmedownuponmyhandsandknees;andasslowlyasasnail,feelingbeforemeeveryinch,andtestingthesolidityofeverystone,Icontinuedtoascendthestair.Thedarkness,bycontrastwiththeflash,appearedtohaveredoubled;norwasthatall,formyearswerenowtroubledandmymindconfoundedbyagreatstirofbatsinthetoppartofthetower,andthefoulbeasts,flyingdownwards,sometimesbeataboutmyfaceandbody.
Thetower,Ishouldhavesaid,wassquare;andineverycornerthestepwasmadeofagreatstoneofadifferentshapetojointheflights.