A Castle in Spain Part 27

He now extinguished the torch, which, together with the boots, he put down on the floor, and then, lying flat down, he thrust his head over the opening and tried to see what was below. There was a faint light, the light of moonbeams, which streamed in here and fell upon the floor, just as in his own room. He reached down his hand, and could feel that here too there were stepping-stones. In fact, there were two rooms connected by this pa.s.sage-way, and in all probability they were exactly similar. But who were in this room? The men had been taken to one side of the great hall, the women to the other. Were the women here? Were they by themselves? And was Katie here? Would it be possible for him to go down so as to try to communicate with any of them? It was certainly hazardous. A discovery would ruin all. It would be better to wait, at any rate to watch here for a while, and listen.

As he watched he could see somewhat better, for his eyes grew more accustomed to the dim light. He could make out the stepping-stones, and the chimney floor, and the floor of the room for about one-third of the distance from the chimney. As he lay there and watched and listened, there came to his ears, through the deep stillness of night, the sound of regular breathing, as of sleepers, together with an occasional sigh, as of some one in a troubled dream. They were all asleep, then! Who? The Carlists, or the women attendants? or was it not rather his own friends--and--Katie? At this thought an uncontrollable desire seized him to venture down and see for himself.

He might get near enough to see for himself. He could strike a match, take one look, and then, if mistaken, retreat. Dared he venture? He dared.

He raised himself, and then was about to put one foot down so as to descend, but at that very moment, as he stood poised in that att.i.tude, he heard a faint shuffling sound below. He stopped and looked down cautiously. There, across the moonbeams, he could see a figure moving; the very same figure that he had seen moving across the moonbeams in his own room--the same slender, slight, fragile figure, with the same floating, vaporous drapery. But now he did not feel one particle of wonder or superst.i.tious awe. He understood it all. The woman who had visited him had fled back here, and was now about to return. What should he do? He must retreat. She was evidently coming in his direction. He would go back to his own room, and wait and watch and intercept her. As Harry hesitated the woman stopped also, and listened. Then she advanced again.

Upon this Harry retreated, taking his boots and the extinguished torch, and went back again. He succeeded in regaining his own room without making any noise, and by that time he had decided on what he ought to do. He decided to stand in the fireplace, on the opposite side. The woman would come down the stepping-stones and steal into the room: he would Watch her and find out what she wanted. Then he would act according to the issue of events; and at any rate he could intercept her on her return, and make her give an account of herself.

Having come to this conclusion, Harry stood there in the chimney, waiting most patiently for what seemed a very long time. He suspected that the woman might still be hesitating, but determined to wait until she should make her appearance. At length he heard a noise, which seemed to come from the pa.s.sage above. It was a soft, dull, sc.r.a.ping, sliding noise of a very peculiar kind, the cause and the nature of which he could not conjecture. The sound came, and then stopped, and came again, and again stopped, for three or four times.

Harry listened and waited. At last the sound ceased altogether, and there was the same stillness as before.

Harry now waited for so long a time that his patience was quite exhausted, and he resolved, come what might, to go up again to the end of the pa.s.sage and wait there. He knew the way now well enough.

He left his torch and boots behind, and, climbing up, went along the pa.s.sage, half expecting to encounter the woman, and ready to seize her and question her. But he found no one. All was still. He reached the chimney of the other room, and then, as before, he looked down.

He saw the moonbeams lying on the floor; he heard the slow, low, regular breathing of sleepers, one of whom seemed still to be in that troubled dream. Familiarity with these surroundings had now made him bold.

Should he venture now, or wait longer?

Wait! Why wait? When could he hope to have a better time than the present?

But one of the women was no doubt awake--that one who had already visited him.

What of that? He cared not; he could not wait. Perhaps she was a friend--it seemed like it. At any rate he was resolved to risk it. To go back was not to be thought of. All his nerves were so wrought up, and to such an intense pitch of excitement, that sleep was impossible and any longer waiting intolerable. He determined to risk all now.

And for what?

For the chance, not of escape, but of communicating with Katie.

The fact is, as any one may see, Harry was getting in a very bad way about Katie. Else why should he make such a point about seeing her, and run such a risk, and make even the chance of his personal safety a secondary consideration? And what for? What did Katie care for him?

What indeed?

These very questions had occurred to the mind of Harry himself, but they had one and all been promptly answered by that volatile young man in a way that was quite satisfactory to himself. For he said to himself that he was a poor lone man; an unfortunate captive in a dungeon; in the hands of a merciless foe; under sentence of death; with only a week to live; and that he wanted sympathy, yes, pined for it--craved, yearned, hungered and thirsted for sweet sympathy. And it seemed to him as though no one could give him that sympathy for which he pined so well as Katie. And therefore he was going down to her on this desperate errand for the sole purpose of seeing her, and perhaps of communicating with her.

A thought occurred to him at the eleventh hour, while he was on the verge of the descent, and that was to write something to her and drop it down. He might pencil something on a leaf of his pocket-book. But, after all, what would be the good of that? Would she ever see it?

Might it not be picked up by one of the waiting-women in the morning?

Most likely it would be, in which case it would be carried to the chief, "His Majesty," and all would be revealed. He then would be conveyed to another part of the castle, and then?good-bye to the hidden package and to Katie. This thought decided him. He continued his descent.

Slowly, cautiously, and stealthily Harry began to venture down, looking behind him at every movement, and at every movement waiting and listening. No sound arose, however, except the low breathing, which was as regular as before. At length he stood upon the stone floor of the fireplace.

Here he stood and looked into the room. By this time his eyes were so accustomed to the moonlight that he could see objects with wonderful distinctness. He could see three beds, upon which were reclining three figures, all apparently buried in sleep. Like himself, all these had been compelled to lie down in their clothes, with only such additional covering as might be afforded by their own shawls and wraps.

Harry stole forward, his heart beating painfully. Upon the rude couch nearest him lay a figure that seemed familiar. The moonbeams shone full upon her. A shawl with a large stripe was drawn over her. It was Katie's shawl.

Harry came nearer.

He could see her! It was--yes, it was Katie!

There was no mistake about it. It was Katie, and she was sound asleep. He looked at her as she slept--her head thrown back, and one arm upraised, so that the little hand seemed suspended in the air.

For a few moments he stood, then he sank upon his knees, and gazed in silent rapture on that sweet and beautiful face. Her breathing was soft and low--scarce audible. He bent his head down to listen. Katie stirred. She drew a long breath.

"H-s-s-s-s-sh!" whispered Harry.

At this Katie stopped breathing for a moment, and then she whispered, very softly,

"Who are you?"

"Harry," said the other. "Don't speak a word."

Saying this, he reached out his hand and took hers. This was intended merely to soothe her and to rea.s.sure her, for fear that she might be startled.

"I knew you would come to me," said Katie, in a rapid and joyous whisper; "and here you are--you dear, good boy!"

At this Harry's heart beat with a rapture that was positive pain.

"I had to come. I could not keep away," he whispered.

"I was just dreaming that you were with me," whispered Katie, "and it all seems so awfully natural. But won't the others see you?"

"H-s-s-s-s-sh!" said Harry. "They're all sound asleep."

Katie now raised herself up on her elbow, while Harry remained kneeling on the floor.

"I think it's so lovely," she said. "It's so awfully nice, and jolly, and all that--in this mysterious old castle; and here, lo and behold!

_you_ come popping in upon one just like a romance."

"H-s-s-s-s-sh! you mustn't speak."

"But it's so awfully nice, you know, I must speak, and, besides, we're only whispering."

"Well, whisper lower, and closer."

Katie held her head closer to Harry, and thus these two, for purely precautionary purposes, carried on the rest of the conversation in that position. And their heads were so close that they touched; and their whispers were very soft and low. But all this was necessary; for if they had not taken these precautions, they might have wakened up old Mrs. Russell, and then, as a matter of course, there would have been the mischief to pay.

"There's too much moonlight here," said Harry. "Come over inside the old fireplace, and we'll be in the dark."

"Oh, that will be so nice!" said Katie. And she at once got up and stole away to the deep, dark fireplace, where both of them were wrapped in impenetrable gloom. It was well that they did so, for at that moment something waked Mrs. Russell, who called out,

"Katie!"

"Well, auntie," said Katie, from the depths of the fireplace.

"I thought I heard a noise."

"Oh no, auntie; you've been dreaming," said Katie, in a tone of sweet sympathy. "Go to sleep again, poor dear."

And auntie sank back into the land of dreams. After a little judicious waiting they were able to resume their interrupted conversation.

"How, in the name of wonder," said Katie, "did you ever, ever manage to get here?"