Eli persuaded Ernest Wraith to come with him, and to bring a couple of strong men from the mill. ‘But you must promise me your discretion,’ Eli had said. ‘Your absolute discretion.’
They arrived in Spaxton in time to take lunch at the Lamb Inn. ‘So you have decided, I see,’ said the landlord gruffly, as he placed jars of ale in front of them. ‘Best of luck to you then, I say.’
After they had eaten their fill of the landlord’s finest beef pie, Eli took the men for a walk around the walls of the Abode. ‘You see,’ he said to them, ‘the only way in is through these two gates, or over the walls. But the landlord has informed me that Prince’s carriage has not left its home for a couple of days now. So if we are lucky, we should catch the gates opening at some point tomorrow. We shall post ourselves in the lane from dawn, and as soon as the gates open, we shall rush in.’
As they walked back to the inn, the chapel bells began to ring out, and Eli thought of Alice. Poor Alice, a prisoner behind those great walls. If only there were some way of letting her know he was there, of letting her know that her ordeal was almost over. He was struck by a sharp thrill. This is what life should be about, he thought. Adventures. Not following a dry old man like Wraith around a dusty mill all day, or placating a demanding mother. Eli felt like a hero and before he could stop himself, he rushed to the gates and began to shout, ‘Alice! Alice! I’m here, Alice!’ His only answer was a snarling and a scrabbling of great claws as the bloodhounds jumped at the gates.
If Eli had not run from the barking and the snarling like some frightened deer, if he had just waited a few minutes more, he would have seen the smaller of the two gates open very slowly. He would have seen a pretty, freckle-faced girl creep out onto the lane, and he could have entered the Abode without any trouble at all. But by the time Beth had closed the gate behind her, Eli was back at the bar of the Lamb Inn, drinking a small brandy to calm his nerves.