“Hospital? What for? What’s the matter with me?” Courtlaw’s voice sank to a whisper. Sheila McCloskey was the real neighborhood watch. Throwing the blanket over his left arm and shouldering the iron bar, he again clambered up the chimney; regained the Red Room; hurried along the first passage; crossed the Chapel; threaded the entry to the Lower Leads; and, in less than ten minutes after quitting the Castle, had reached the northern extremity of the prison. Rhea laughed and lunged for the broadsword that Sebastian had carelessly left lying on the ground.
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