The Castle of the Shadows | Page 2

years. Paris has absorbed me," he said evasively. "One
forgets a good deal; but if you want to see a really charming valley, we
had better go farther on. Then I think I can show you one."
Virginia's pretty brows, which were many shades darker than her hair,
drew together. "But I don't want to go farther," she said. "And I like
this valley."
"Spoilt child!" ejaculated the Englishman, who claimed rights of
cousinship, though by birth Virginia was American.
At that moment two members of the riding party, who had contrived to

be left behind, came leisurely up. One was a very handsome, dark
woman, who succeeded in looking not more than thirty, the other a
young man of twenty-five, enough like Virginia to suggest that they
were brother and sister.
"What are you stopping for?" inquired Lady Gardiner, who would not
have been sorry to keep her friends in advance.
"Waiting for you," said Virginia promptly. "I want to explore this
valley."
As she spoke she gave her mare a little pat on the velvety neck. The
animal, which was Virginia's own, brought from her namesake state,
had never known the touch of the whip, but understood the language of
hand and voice. She went off at a trot up the shadowed road; and the
Marchese Loria was the first to follow. But he bit his lip under the
black moustache, pointed in military fashion at the ends, and appeared
more annoyed than he need because a pretty girl had insisted upon
having her own way.
It was not yet cold, as he had prophesied, but it was many degrees
cooler than in the sunshine; and as they rode on the valley narrowed,
the soft darkness of the olive grove closing in the white road that
overhung the rock-bed of the river.
The hills rose higher, shutting out the day, and there was a brooding
silence, only intensified by the hushed whisper of the water among its
pebbles.
The shoulders of the heights were losing their gold glitter now; and
Virginia had a curious sensation of leaving reality behind and entering
a mysterious dreamland.
For a long time they rode without speaking. Then Virginia broke the
spell of constraint which had fallen upon them.
"Where are the persons who gather the olives?" she asked of the Italian,
who rode almost sullenly beside her.

"This isn't the time of year for that," he replied, more abruptly than was
his custom in speaking to her.
"I never saw such a deserted place!" exclaimed the girl. "We have
ridden ever so far into the valley now--two miles at least--and there
hasn't been a sign of human habitation; not a person, not a house,
except the little ruined tower we passed a few minutes ago, and that old
château almost at the top of the hill. Look! the last rays of the sun are
touching its windows before saying good-bye to the valley. Aren't they
like the fiery eyes of some fierce animal glaring watchfully down at us
out of the dusk?"
Pointing upward, she turned to him for approval of her fancy, and to
her surprise saw him pale, as if he had been attacked with sudden
illness.
"What is the matter?" she asked quickly.
"Nothing at all," he replied. "A slight chill, perhaps."
"No, there is more than that," Virginia said slowly. "I'm sure of it. I've
been sure ever since we stood on the bridge looking up this valley. You
wanted to go on. You could hardly bear to stop, and when I proposed
riding in you made excuses."
"Only for your sake, fearing you might catch cold."
"Yet you suggested going on to another valley. Would it have been
warmer than this? Oh, Marchese, I don't like you when you are subtle
and secretive. It reminds me that we are of different countries--as
different as the north can be from the south. Do tell me what is really in
your mind. Why do you hate this valley? Why has coming into it tied
your tongue, and made you look as if you had seen a ghost?"
"You exaggerate, Miss Beverly," said Loria. "But if you care to know
the precise truth you shall, on one condition."
"What is it?"

"That you turn your horse's head and consent to go out into the
sunshine again. When we are there I will tell you."
"No. If I hear your story, and think it worth turning back for, I will. I
mean to have a nearer glimpse of that château. It must have a lovely
view over the tops of the olive trees."
She touched the mare, who changed from a trot into a gallop. In five
minutes more they would be under the castle; but almost instantly Loria,
obliged to follow, had caught