A few hours later, all was dark and silent within the castle. On the
stone walks below, the steady tread of sentinels rose on the still air;
in the hallways the trusted guardsmen glided about like spectres or
stood like statues. An hour before the great edifice had been bright and
full of animation; now it slumbered.
It was two o'clock. The breath of roses scented the air, the gurgle of
fountains was the only music that touched the ear. Beverly Calhoun,
dismissing Aunt Fanny, stepped from her window out upon the great stone
balcony. A rich oriental dressing-gown, loose and comfortable, was her
costume. Something told her that sleep would be a long time coming, and
an hour in the warm, delightful atmosphere of the night was more
attractive than the close, sleepless silence of her own room. Every
window along the balcony was dark, proving that the entire household had
retired to rest.
She was troubled. The fear had entered her head that the castle folk
were regretting the advent of Baldos, that everyone was questioning the
wisdom of his being in the position he occupied through her devices. Her
talk with him did much to upset her tranquillity. That he knew so much
of the fortress bore out the subtle suspicions of Dangloss and perhaps
others. She was troubled, not that she doubted him, but that if anything
went wrong an accusation against him, however unjust, would be difficult
to overcome. And she would be to blame, in a large degree.
For many minutes she sat in the dark shadow of a great pillar, her
elbows upon the cool balustrade, staring dreamily into the star-studded
vault above. Far away in the air she could see the tiny yellow lights of
the monastery, lonely sentinel on the mountain top. From the heights
near that abode of peace and penitence an enemy could destroy the
fortress to the south. Had not Baldos told her so? One big gun would do
the work if it could be taken to that altitude. Baldos could draw a
perfect map of the fortress. He could tell precisely where the shells
should fall. And already the chief men in Edelweiss were wondering who
he was and to what end he might utilize his knowledge. They were
watching him, they were warning her.
For the first time since she came to the castle, she felt a sense of
loneliness, a certain unhappiness. She could not shake off the feeling
that she was, after all, alone in her belief in Baldos. Her heart told
her that the tall, straightforward fellow she had met in the hills was
as honest as the day. She was deceiving him, she realized, but he was
misleading no one. Off in a distant part of the castle ground she could
see the long square shadow that marked the location of the barracks and
messroom. There he was sleeping, confidently believing in her and her
power to save him from all harm. Something in her soul cried out to him
that she would be staunch and true, and that he might sleep without a
tremor of apprehensiveness.