He nodded. At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring. "I fear we're too late," he whispered to Thames. ‘Poor Gerald has been very busy about your affairs this last week. About two weeks ago. It was astonishing how often this picture returned: cold rosy apples and flurries of snow. " So saying, he descended a short spiral staircase, and, entering a long stone gallery, from which several other passages branched, took one of them, and after various turnings—for he was familiar with all the intricacies of the prison— arrived at the cell of which he was in search.
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