Vague fears began to
take possession of her. Something dreadful told her that Count Marlanx
was on the balcony and at her window, notwithstanding the rain pour. The
fear became oppressive, maddening. She felt the man's presence almost as
strongly as if he were in plain view. He was there, she knew it.
The little revolver that had served her so valiantly at the Inn of the
Hawk and Raven lay upon a stool near the bedside every night. Consumed
by the fear that the window might open slowly at any moment, she reached
forth and clutched the weapon. Then she shrank back in the bed, her eyes
fixed upon the black space across the room. For hours she shivered and
waited for the window to open, dozing away time and again only to come
back to wakefulness with a start.
The next morning she confessed to herself that her fears had been
silly. Her first act after breakfasting alone in her room was to seek
out Colonel Quinnox, commander of the castle guard. In her mind she was
greatly troubled over the fate of the bold visitor of the night
before. There was a warm, red glow in her face and a quick beat in her
heart as she crossed the parade-ground. Vagabond though he was, he had
conquered where princes had failed. Her better judgment told her that
she could be nothing to this debonair knight of the road, yet her heart
stubbornly resisted all the arguments that her reason put forth.
Pages:
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255