“Thank God! Thou hast spoken, and I may speak, too. Thou goest to do my bidding in love for thy father, to fulfil my vow. Alas, many trials await thee. Canst thou face them?”
“I can do all man can do.”
“So I imagine from thy bold bearing in this haunted castle of my ancestors. It is well. Only go forward, whatever happens. Thou shalt not perish. Thou shalt deliver thy father and me, condemned as yet to walk this lower earth, till the vow my own misconduct made me unworthy to fulfil is fulfilled by thee. Fare thee well, and fear not.”
And the figure disappeared.
Hubert felt a sense of blessed relief, under which he fell asleep again, and did not awake until aroused by a cry of terror. He started up. Almeric and all the men were on their feet, like frenzied beings, gazing into the darkness which enveloped the end of the hall. Then they rushed with a wild cry at the door, which they unbarred with eager hands, and issued into the darkness. He heard a heavy fall, as if one, perhaps two, had missed the steps and gone headlong into the courtyard.
Terror is contagious, but Hubert saw nothing as yet to fear.
“Come back, ye cowards! Shame on ye!” he cried, but cried in vain—he was alone in the haunted hall.
The fact was that Hubert felt as if he personally had made his peace with the mysterious haunters of the castle, and had nothing to fear. So he did not stir, but was even able to sleep again until aroused by the aged janitor, just as the blessed light of dawn was pouring through the oriel window.
“I warned you, my lord,” he said.
“You did. The fault, and the punishment, too, is ours. But where are my men?”