the room into which i looked was furnished in a style surprisingly in contrast to its situation. the walls were hung with rich brocaded curtains, the furniture and ornaments in the apartment were those of a luxuriously appointed boudoir. there appeared to be no window in the room save that (and it was practically none) through which i was spying, but it was lighted by several delicately-shaded lamps, which added to its cosy appearance. on a couch a girl sat reading. i needed not to wait till she looked up to be certain that it was asta von winterstein. my heart gave a great throb of joy to find that after all she was alive; but poor girl! thought i, what a prison, what a fate!
there was hope, however, now that i had found her, and i longed to be able to communicate my hope to her. she looked pale, as was natural, but wonderfully beautiful; there was a dignity about her expression now which had not been noticeable in the lively bantering girl i had danced with at buyda.
my one thought now was how to attract her notice without jeopardizing the chance which fate had thrown in my way. just as i had made up my mind to tap very softly at the glass between us, the girl suddenly raised her head and, following her glance, i saw a movement in the curtain at the further side of the room. next moment it was pushed aside and another [pg 195]girl entered—the girl whom i had known as miss seemarsh.
she brought in a tray with tea and dishes of cakes and confectionery. i thought of the count’s special bon-bons, and wondered whether fr?ulein asta was running the same risk. perhaps not; they evidently had some object in keeping her alive, or why was the tragedy not already accomplished? delay was certainly not one of the jaguar’s methods. the girl set down the tray on the table which she placed by the prisoner’s side. they spoke a few words to each other, and then the girl began to move about the room, putting things tidy in a desultory sort of way, and occasionally making a laughing remark to asta, who replied wearily. as she went about the room she took something out of a small dark box. then turning round she seated herself carelessly on the arm of a large chair, and i could see that the object in her hands was a concertina. she held it up and played the first few bars of a lively operatic air. then i shrewdly guessed her to have been also the pretended wandering boy musician i had seen at the inn. she had, no doubt, been sent to spy upon me and von lindheim, and her position in the count’s household was clear.
her music evidently worried the other, for she said something to the girl, who at once left off playing, replaced the instrument, and shortly afterwards left the room.
it now seemed that a favourable opportunity had come of making my presence known to the prisoner. i tapped softly on the pane. the fr?ulein, who had resumed her listless attitude of reading, raised her head in surprise and listened. i tapped again. she looked in my direction now almost in terror. standing as i did in comparative darkness she could probably see nothing of me. i brought my face close to [pg 196]the glass, and spoke her name. she must have seen me then, for she rose, laid down her book, and stood irresolute for a few seconds, seemingly between fear and joy. she went quickly to the door, drew aside the curtain which hung before it, and seemed to satisfy herself that no one was near. then she ran towards me. i shall never forget the look on her face as she crossed the room. it was radiant. when she saw me, every trace of apprehension vanished. but the glass and the bars were between us; her face was as close to them on one side as mine was on the other. i put my hands round my mouth. “can you open the window?” i said.
she heard me, for she examined the window and then shook her head. it was evidently not intended to open, the leaded glass having been put in apparently recently to cover what had been a bare aperture, open but for the bars. i took out my knife and proceeded to loosen one of the panes by easing the leaden frame away from its edges. the girl had made signs that she would keep watch by the door while my work was going on; in about five minutes i had the satisfaction of being able to take out the pane, and then she came back to me.
“i got your fan, fr?ulein.”
“you! that night in buyda?”
“yes. it fell at my feet.”
“heaven be thanked! and you have come to save me?”
“i hope so. i have worked to that end ever since i read your message.”
“ah, you are brave! but you do not know the dangers of this horrible place.”
“indeed i do, at least a few of them. but tell me, fr?ulein, are you in immediate danger—of your life?”
she looked troubled. “i cannot tell. i am dead, [pg 197]practically to the world. you are the only one, except these villains here, who know that i am alive. and so my life, being nothing in the world, hangs by a thread which any moment may be snipped.”
“fr?ulein, you must not despair. i will save you or give my life for you.”
“oh!” she cried miserably. “why have you come? i had given up all hope. i was resigned to my fate. now the sight of you, of a friend, has made me feel i cannot die. and yet there is no escape. these wretches are pitiless, and even if they were not, what are they but the creatures of him who never spares? the very air of this vile place is death. i had heard of the hostel of st. tranquillin in my happy days, but little thought i should spend my last hours here.”
she was weeping in a piteous state of distress. i strove, in spite of natural misgivings, to comfort her, bidding her hope for a speedy escape.
“ah, it is impossible!” she said when i had told her of the secret way. “if we should escape it would be but for a few hours which would bring us certain death. and yet to stay here may be worse than death.”
she ran again to the door, listened, and returned.
“shall i tell you,” she said, “why i, who am mourned as dead, am permitted to live—if only for a little?”
“the princess’s marriage——”
“ah, you know of that! yes; that fatal escapade. we little thought how terrible its consequences were to be, how swiftly the jaguar was to strike. he, rallenstein, naturally determined on my death, but was shrewd enough to know that my father is powerful, so he would strike cunningly. i was to die two deaths, the first a false one, so that the chancellor might see how my relations accepted it; and when he should [pg 198]have nothing to fear from them, then i, already dead to the world, was to die in reality, like poor von orsova. that is why i am brought here. probably rallenstein already believes me dead, but this man, furello——”
“ah!” i could guess the story now. “he is in love with you?”
she nodded. “he will spare my life if i will marry him. marry him! ah, mein gott! is it not horrible? this murderer, this unspeakable villain. be his wife! and for how long? he dare not let me live even if he should wish. already they say he has killed one wife and is secretly married now.”
“to a lady whom he passes off as his sister. she knows you are here?”
“i cannot tell. what must her life be, poor woman!”
“i fancy she suspects the truth.”
“ah!”
“she saved my life last night by a timely warning.”
the girl’s eyes filled with tears. “and you risked it for me! you shall not. it is not worth it. i am a dead woman. you must think of me no more. it was wicked, it was cruel of me to throw you my fan. but i was desperate, in deadly fear which is over now, and i little thought——”
“that the fan would fall at the feet of one who would gladly give his life even in the most impossible attempt to save you,” i interrupted vehemently. “fr?ulein, i entreat you, do not give yourself up for lost while there is a beat left in my heart or your own. mine is the worthless life, not yours. let me give it for you if need be; nay, i must, whether you will or not. if only time be yet on our side! let me not waste it now. what we have to do is to remove these bars and then the rest should be easy.”
[pg 199]
i struck a light and examined the extremities of the irons which crossed the window. they were simply secured to the sides by heavy screws; nothing but a wrench would be needed to remove them. so that was hopeful enough. i told the prisoner, who had been on guard at the door, how easy her escape should be. but there was much to think of and plan before the attempt could be made. for if it failed her death would be logically certain.
she saw that. “as it is it may be too late,” she said. “i am dead already to every one but these people and you.” she made a little despairing grimace; her natural liveliness still flickered, though nearly quenched by those gloomy and terrifying surroundings.
“you are very much alive to me, fr?ulein,” i returned warmly; “and by the help of providence shall be so soon to the rest of the world. but premature action would be fatal. you must make up your mind to another four-and-twenty hours in this place.”
“if i dared hope—for twenty-four seconds——”
“you must call cunning to our aid. to bridge over the time in safety between now and freedom, life——”
“ah!” she cried. “herr tyrrell, don’t make me hope. it is cruel.”
“indeed, no, if we walk warily. you must temporize with the count. appear inclined to relent. i can leave that to your wit. only keep things as they are till to-morrow evening, when i will return, not to leave without you. now, i hate to go, fr?ulein, but the risk to you in staying is too great. keep a good heart; above all do not let anyone see that you have hope, and trust me.”
she gave me the sweetest little nod of courage and thanks and stretched her hand through the bars. [pg 200]as i kissed it i felt i could never let it go. but prudence reasserted itself, and we parted.
i had little difficulty in finding my way back through the subterranean passage. the horrors of the place, its murkiness, the dripping roof and walls, the dank, unwholesome atmosphere were as nothing to me now. the vile way led from darkness to light; and by the time i had traversed it and reached the entrance and the open air my plans for the morrow’s attempt were formed.
