The Princess Elopes | Page 6

one of my dreams at last? Had Romance suddenly relented, as a coquette sometimes relents? For a space I knew not what to do. Then, with a shrug--I have never been accused of lacking courage--I tried once more, by the aid of a match, to locate a bell. There was absolutely nothing; and the beating of my riding-crop on the panels of that huge door would have been as noisy as a feather. I grasped the knob and turned it impatiently. Behold! the door opened without sound, and I stepped into the hallway, which was velvet black.
The wonderful voice went on. I paused, with hands outstretched. Supposing I bumped into something! I took a step forward, another and another; I swung my crop in a half-circle; all was vacancy, I took another step, this time in the direction of the voice--and started back with a smothered curse. Bang-ang! I had run into a suit of old armor, the shield of which had clattered to the stone floor. As I have observed, I am not a coward, but I had all I could do to keep my legs--which were stirrup-weary, anyhow--from knocking under me!
Silence!
The song died. All over that great rambling structure not even the reassuring chirp of a cricket! I stood perfectly still. What the deuce should I do? Turn back? As I formed this question in my mind a draft of wind slammed the door shut. I was in for it, sure enough; I was positive that I could never find that door again. There was nothing to do but wait, and wait with straining ears. Here were mysterious inhabitants.--they might be revolutionists, conspirators, counterfeiters.
Heaven knows how long I waited.
Soon I heard a laugh, light, infectious, fearless! Then I heard a voice, soft and pleading.
"Don't go; in mercy's name, don't go, Gretchen! You may be killed!"
English! I had actually heard a voice speak my native tongue.
"Nonsense, Betty! I am not afraid of any ghost that ever walked, rode or floated."
"Ghost? It may be a burglar!"
"Or Steinbock! We shall find nothing."
Indeed!
"Nothing but a rat, bungling about in the armor." The laughter came again. "You are not afraid, Betty?"
"Only cautious. But how can you laugh? A rat?" cried a voice rather anxiously. "Why, they are as big as dogs!"
"But arrant cowards."
So! one of these voices spoke English as its birthright; the other spoke with an accent, that is to say, by adoption. Into what had I fallen? Whither had my hunger brought me? I was soon to learn.
There came a faint thread of light on one side of the hall, such as may be likened to that which filters under a door-sill. Presently this was followed by the sound of jangling brass rings. A heavy velvet portière--which I, being in darkness, had not discovered--slipped back. My glance, rather blinded, was first directed toward the flame of the candle. Then I lowered it--and surrendered for ever and for ever!
I beheld two faces in profile, as it were, one side in darkness, the other tinted and glowing like ancient ivory. I honestly confess to you that in all my wanderings--and they have been frequent and many--I never saw such an enchanting picture or two more exquisite faces. One peered forth with hesitant bravery; the other--she who held the candle--with cold, tranquil inquiry.
All my fears, such as they were, left me instantly. Besides, I was not without a certain amount of gallantry and humor. I stepped squarely into the light and bowed.
"Ladies, I am indeed not a ghost, but I promise you that I shall be if I am not offered something to eat at once!"
Tableau!
"What are you doing here?" asked she with the candle, her midnight eyes drawing down her brows into a frown of displeasure.
I bowed. "To begin with, I find a gate unlocked, and being curious, I open it; then I find a door unlatched, and I enter. Under these unusual circumstances I am forced to ask the same question of you: what are you doing here in this ruined castle? If it isn't ruined, it is deserted, which amounts to the same thing." This was impertinent, especially on the part of a self-invited guest.
"That is my affair, sir. I have a right here, now and at all times." Her voice was cold and authoritative. "There is an inn six miles farther down the road; this is a private residence. Certainly you can not remain here over night."
"Six miles?" I echoed dismally. "Madam, if I have seemed impertinent, pardon me. I have been in the saddle six hours. I have ridden nearly thirty miles since noon. I am dead with fatigue. At least give me time to rest a bit before taking up the way again, I admit that the manner of my entrance was informal; but how was I to