CHAPTER XXIII
GILBERT'S NARROW ESCAPE
When Gilbert regained his senses, he found himself bound hands and feet, and lying upon a pallet of straw. The place was a stone cell, and in a niche of the wall a dim lantern was burning.
He wondered how he had come there, and at last concluded that the old priest had had him made a prisoner and carried hither. His head hurt him not a little, and there was a painful sore on his left elbow.
"I suppose I am worse off than I was before," was his dismal conclusion. "That priest will never let me go, now that I have shot one of his followers."
As weak as he was, he endeavored to release himself from his bonds; but the effort proved a failure. His captors had done their work well, and he merely succeeded in cutting his wrists and ankles until the blood came.
His movements created some noise; and presently a door to the cell opened, and the man who had tackled
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