heaved. The heavy iron gate lifted a few inches. She pulled harder, the rough fibres of the rope biting into her hands. The gate lifted a little higher.
Then she heard it, faintly but unmistakably, a man's voice calling from somewhere behind her.
'Finch! Answer me, you little brat! Finch!'
Finch heard it too and turned. In the moonlight she could see his eyes wide with terror.
She heaved on the rope with all her strength and the gate rose just another few inches. 'Now, Finch, now! Crawl under. Go on quickly. I can't hold it.'
Finch hesitated, then as the voice above them called again, he dropped to his knees and slithered under the gap. It took all Elena's remaining strength not to let the gate fall with a crash; she eased it down as slowly as she could, but even so iron fell back on to stone with a dreadful clang.
Finch threw himself against the closed gate with a wail. 'Holly, Holly, open it! Open it! You can do it.'
Behind her, Elena heard Talbot's voice again, nearer this time. 'Finch, you'd best come out now, lad, or Ma'll flay the hide from your back and worse. Come on, lad, no use hiding, you know I'll find you.'
Finch cringed, but he still thrust his arm through the bars, trying to touch Elena.
'Please, Holly, please,' he begged. 'Open the gate. Let me back. I'm scared. I don't want to be out here. Let me back in, please.'
Elena crossed to the gate and took his cold little hands in hers.
'I can't, Finch. I can't. That man, that werecat has come back. You have to go. It's not safe for you here.' She reached through the bars, stroking his mop of soft curls.
'Listen to me, Finch. You have to be a brave boy. You must get on to the bank and follow the river. Keep walking all night, and when daylight comes find a place to hide and sleep. Then walk again when it gets dark. Walk until you are a long way from here. When you reach another village or town, then you can look for work. But, whatever you do, don't trust the boatmen. Don't let them see you. Too many of them come here. They might recognize you or Ma might ask them to find you.'
'But Holly, how are you going to escape?'
'Don't worry about me. I'll find a way out, you see if I don't.'
Talbot was bellowing again, fury in his voice. The caged beasts were snarling and hurling themselves at their bars, disturbed by his shouting.
She pulled her hands away. 'Go, Finch, go quickly! Talbot is coming.'
The boy stood motionless, his little fists gripping the bars. His face was ghost white in the moonlight, and silver tears were running down his cheeks.
Elena softly began to sing.
Lavender's green, diddle diddle, Lavender's blue.
You must love me, diddle diddle, 'cause I love you.
'Remember, Finch, always remember.'
As she resolutely turned away, her throat tight with tears, she thought she heard a soft echo behind her, a tremulous, broken little voice that might almost have been the sobbing of the river.
Let the birds sing, diddle diddle, let the lambs play,
We shall be safe, diddle diddle, deep in the hay.
She did not turn round.
Elena groped her way back up the slope as quickly as she could. She was desperate to reach the cellar before Talbot could come down the passage. She had to stall him long enough for Finch to get clear. She only prayed that the boy had the sense to run and was not still standing there. 'Blessed Virgin, look after him, keep him safe.'
It seemed much longer going up that tunnel than going down. She began to fear that she had taken a wrong turn, but there was no turn. She dragged her hand along the wall, feeling her way. The other she stretched out in front of her, to feel for the sacking curtain. She could still hear Talbot. He wasn't calling now, but cursing and muttering as he poked among the cages. The animals snarled, hurling themselves at their cages to drive away his unsettling light and defend their own tiny territory.
Something brushed lightly over her hand, and she almost yelled out until she realized it was the piece of sacking. She slid from behind it, keeping herself pressed against the wall as she edged round in the darkness. Talbot must be at the far end of the other passage for there was no light from the torch, unless he had given up