“Oh, dear,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes; “do you think the wolves will come and eat me if I don't say my prayers to-night?”
“No, no, dearest. I will say them for you. Go to sleep.”
I kissed him and turned out the light; then I went downstairs to get a book from the library, intending to return to my room at once. I felt nervous and restless. I was afraid I should not be able to sleep.
How did it happen? Perhaps it was an instant's forgetfulness that caused me to draw the door of the library after me. It closed with a heavy thud. The long, dark-red curtain turned on its rod and fell in front of the doorway.
I was imprisoned!
XXII
I should never dare to leave that room.
Suddenly I thought that Tioka might call me. But between him and me, standing outside on the threshold of that draped door, was there not the man whom I had seen die in Yalta? Horrifying memory! For a long time I did not venture to stir. I turned my head and looked behind me, then fixed my eyes afresh on the red curtain. Suddenly I thought I heard a cry.
Yes; it was Tioka calling me, Tioka all alone upstairs, who was frightened too, frightened even as I was. With shivers swathing me from head to foot as with an icy sheet, I listened to those cries which every moment grew shriller and wilder. Then, in answer to him, I screamed too.