His room was last at the end of one winding corner. This is your moment. To vault over the pews was the work of a moment; and having gained the entry leading to the Red Room he passed through the first door; his progress being only impeded by the pile of broken stones, which he himself had raised. She meant to leave anyway, or so she would tell herself later. The red glare fell upon the slimy brick-work, and tinged the inky waters below. On this fresh outburst of the storm, Wood threw himself instinctively into the bottom of the boat, and clasping the little orphan to his breast, endeavoured to prepare himself to meet his fate.
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