27
The next door led straight to a bridge which spanned a deep narrow chasm. The three friends stepped fearfully onto the dizzy-making bridge.
“Back off the bridge!” a rough voice commanded.
“He wasn’t there a moment ago,” Lar squeaked, his voice quavering.
A stocky, muscular figure, holding an ash staff in his hands, blocked their way. The man was dressed in ragged clothes, but it was his eyes which disturbed the three companions. They were small, but the menace and hatred there burnt like coals.
“Back off, I said!”
“But we want to cross the bridge,” Adam said. It’s like Robin Hood and Little John, Adam thought, except it’s not a shallow stream, it’s an abyss! He trembled at the thought of the fall that would follow being pushed off the bridge.
“Well, you can’t,” the swarthy man sn
