"You speak as if you feared something," I replied, in disregard of her warning. "Are you threatened with any danger?"
"No," she said; "at least I do not comprehend what may be dangers here. For it is a house of mystery. My guardian has but now left me. He is disguised: I cried out when I saw him.... Oh, Denis, I am horribly afraid here.... It is all so silent, and yet I know the place is full of men."
I hesitated no longer.
"Is there anything by which you can make a rope?" I asked, "any sheet from your bed, or clothing?"
She caught at my intention.
"Yes, yes," she murmured, nodding. "There is my cloak. I will tear it."
"They may hear the sound of the tearing," I said. "Do not move from the window." And so, returning to the little slip or inlet whence I had sent down the boat, I found the oars which I had removed from it, and carried them with me to the house. Idonia could just touch the blade of one with extended fingers when I held it out at arm's length.
"It is too short," said Idonia, with a pitiful catch in her voice.
I bade her keep her heart up, and, unclasping my belt, laced the two oars tightly together where they were frayed hollow by the thole. The joined staff they made reached high enough now, and without awaiting my instruction Idonia caught it to her (I holding it upright) and swung herself lightly to the ground.
"Free, oh free!" came her cry of exultation, and a moment after we held each other closely in a long embrace. Her lips were fire.