Sister Martha was out of sight, Aline slipped out of bed to reconnoiter. This room had three doors. One led out into the cloister.
From behind the other she heard chanting. It must lead into the chapel, which was common enough. It meant that the door could stand open during services to allow the sick to worship.
The third door, when she gingerly opened it, proved to open into the infirmarian's still room. It was rich with the smells of herbs and potions, and its other door - thank you again, Blessed Mother - stood open into the herb garden.
The herb garden, however, was no escape. It had only one other exit - an archway back into the cloister, where Sister Martha presumably sat.
With a humph of frustration, Aline studied the wooden wall that sheltered two sides of the garden. It was the outside wall of the convent, but was at least twice her height. Though it had some cross-bracing on her side, she really didn't think she could climb it. She'd never been the sort of girl attracted to climbing and or other rough activities.
On the other hand, she had to get out of here.
She turned to consider the infirmary building itself. The peak of the thatched roof was a little higher than the wooden wall. Perhaps from up there she could let herself down.
Her heart started to thump with nervousness at the mere thought, but if she were going to try, it had to be now. As soon as vespers were over, the infirmarian would come to physick her, probably followed by a suspicious mother superior.
She remembered Raoul calling her a green cadet. He hadn't been talking of this kind of challenge, but the memory challenged her. She could do it. She could do anything if she put her mind to it.
Aline ran back into the infirmary and brought out a sturdy stool. Standing on that, she found she could almost reach the first ropes of the low-hanging thatch. With a jump and a pull, she was spread-eagled on the thatch, praying to whatever saint guarded foolish climbers.
As her heart steadied, she realized the roof was quite shallow, and with the thatch ties at regular intervals, it was easy enough to creep up to the crown - as long as she didn't look down.
When she reached the top, however, she had to peep over to see what Sister Martha was doing. She was sitting in the cloister garden, praying.
It was a long way down.
"God bless you and keep you, Sister, and may you not get into too much trouble over this."
Aline began to edge sideways along the peak of the roof toward the wooden wall, muttering with irritation as the layers of her clothing kept snagging on straw.
At the wall, Aline found she was still blessed, for on the other side was a quiet, narrow street. People passed along occasionally, but it was often deserted.
The drop, however, was still twice her height.
Jumping was completely out of the question.
She wished Raoul were here to train her. She was sure he knew any number of ways of getting down a wall. In fact, he'd think the task trivial, and laugh at her fears.
"Hah!" muttered Aline. "I'll show you, Raoul de Jouray."
Heart pounding with fear, she unknotted her woven girdle and tied one end securely to one of the thatch ropes. The girdle was more than her height in length. If it held, it should make the drop quite small.
If it held.
Praying that the bell for the end of vespers wouldn't start yet, Aline waited for a time when no one was in sight. Then, whispering a continuous litany to her favorite saints, she wriggled her legs and hips over the wall, holding on to the cloth for dear life.
"Mary, Mother of God, aid me."
"Saint Anne, pray for me. And give me stronger arms and hands!"
Muscles screaming, feet braced against the wall, she worked hand over hand down the stretching, straining strip of woven cloth.
"Saint George, mighty warrior, come to my support!"
Her hands ached and weakened, and she was sure she would lose her grip.
"Saint Thomas, let me not doubt that this cloth will hold me____"
The girdle snapped.
Aline let out a squeak of terror, but in fact she was so close to the end that she just dropped with a thump on her behind.
After a shaken moment, she leaped up, dusted herself off, and grabbed the torn strip of material off the ground.
She was just in time. As she hurried down the lane