The Face of the Abbot | Page 9

"On this very spot her father fell from the battlements above," he said,
slowly.
I shuddered, and all pleasant thoughts were instantly dispelled by the
memory of that hideous tragedy and the work we had still to do. It
seemed impossible in this radiant, living sunlight to realize the horror
that these walls had contained, and might still contain. At some of these
very windows the ghastly face had appeared.
Helen, De Castro, and I spent the whole day exploring the castle. We
went from dungeons to turrets, and made elaborate plans for alternate
nightly vigils. One of the first things that I insisted on was that
Gonsalves should not sleep in the castle at night. This was easily
arranged, the old man having friends in the neighbouring village. Thus
the only people in the castle after nightfall would be De Castro, Helen,
and myself.
After we had locked old Gonsalves out and had raised the portcullis, we
again went the complete round of the entire place. Thus we ensured that
no one else could be hiding in the precincts. Finally we placed across
every entrance thin silken threads which would be broken if anyone

attempted to pass them.
Helen was extremely anxious that the night should be divided into three
portions, and that she should share the vigils; but this both De Castro
and I prohibited.
"At least for to-night," I said. "Sleep soundly; trust the matter to us.
Believe me, this will be best. All arrangements are made. Your uncle
will patrol until one o'clock in the morning, then I will go on duty."
This plan was evidently most repugnant to her, and when De Castro left
the room she came up and began to plead with me.
"I have a strange and overpowering sensation of terror," she said.
"Fight as I will, I cannot get rid of it. I would much rather be up than in
that terrible room. I slept last night because I was too weary to do
anything else, but I am wakeful to-night, and I shall not close my eyes.
Let me share your watch at least. Let us pace the courtyard side by
side."
"No," I answered, "that would not do. If two of us are together the
ghost, or whatever human being poses as the ghost, will not dare to put
in an appearance. We must abide by our terrible mission, Helen; each
must watch alone. You will go to bed now, like a good girl, and
to-morrow night, if we have not then discovered anything, you will be
allowed to take your share in the night watch."
"Very well," she answered.
She sighed impatiently, and after a moment she said:--
"I have a premonition that something will happen to-night. As a rule
my premonitions come right."
I made no answer, but I could not help giving her a startled glance. It is
one thing to be devoid of ghostly terrors when living in practical
London, surrounded by the world and the ways of men, but it is another
thing to be proof against the strange terror which visits all human

beings more or less when they are alone, when it is night, when the
heart beats low. Then we are apt to have distorted visions, our mental
equilibrium is upset, and we fear we know not what.
Helen and I knew that there was something to fear, and as our eyes met
we dared not speak of what was uppermost in our thoughts. I could not
find De Castro, and presumed that he had taken up his watch without
further ado. I therefore retired to my own room and prepared to sleep.
But the wakefulness which had seized Helen was also mine, for when
the Portuguese entered my bedroom at one o'clock I was wide awake.
"You have seen nothing?" I said to him.
"Nothing," he answered, cheerfully. "The moon is bright, the night is
glorious. It is my opinion that the apparition will not appear."
"I will take the precaution to put this in my pocket," I said, and I took
up my revolver, which was loaded.
As I stepped out into the courtyard I found that the brilliant moonlight
had lit up the north-west wall and the turrets; but the sharp black
shadow of the south wall lay diagonally across the yard. Absolute
stillness reigned, broken only by the croaking of thousands of frogs
from the valley below. I sat down on a stone bench by the balustrade
and tried to analyze my feelings. For a time the cheerfulness which I
had seen so marked on De Castro's face seemed to have communicated
itself to me; my late fears vanished, I was not even nervous, I found it
difficult to concentrate my thoughts on the object which had brought
me