Explore "The Hidden Door" by Arthur Gask on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Grim and grey was Thralldom Castle. Eight hundred years and more its mighty walls had reared their heights to Heaven, scorched by the suns, buffeted by the tempests and fretted by the lashing rains.
Old, old was its story and many were the dark and sinister secrets that it held. Its dungeons had echoed to the groans of the dying and its vaults had witnessed many a hurried burial of the dead. All down the ages the tides of battle had beaten round it, cruel and devouring as the storm driven tides of the sea. Its great stones had been hewn and fashioned in the days of the lance, the battleaxe, and the arrow, and the turmoil and din of battle had been its cradle song and the anthem of its later years.