Shuffling footsteps, muffled whispers and hard breathing were the first sounds which greeted my dulled senses when once again I woke from one of those strange and fitful sleeps in which the mysterious poison held me periodically enthralled.
Through the marble tracery brilliant daylight came peeping in, making the sanctuary lamps appear pale and ghost-like. My head felt less heavy, and my eyes were less painful. It seemed to me that the shuffling steps drew nearer, and as they approached the whispers ceased. I was still a prisoner, but my brain was fully alert, and soon I perceived that two forms, swathed in white, had paused a moment beside the gateway.
I made an earnest appeal to all my wits, and, holding my breath, crouching against the wall, I waited. Soon a refreshing current of outer air told me that the gateway had been opened, that if I kept my wits about me, my one chance of deliverance had come.
Like the flash of a sudden instinct, the thought came to me that perhaps some one was coming to see whether the deadly narcotic had thoroughly accomplished its work; or perhaps, after all, Hugh had fallen into the awful trap, and it mattered nothing if I were prisoner or free. With my mind filled with terrible doubts and presentiments, I yet had the strength to remain perfectly still: I guessed what I ought to look like, if indeed I were still under the influence of the drug, and crouching, with my head buried between my knees, I waited.
The shuffling footsteps came quite close to me, a cold bony hand forced my head back, then allowed it to fall again; a muffled voice murmured:
“Some more?”
“Ay! perhaps, for safety,” replied another.
This was the crucial moment. Weak as I was, another whiff of the poison would perhaps render me helpless for ever. I heard a click like the opening of a metal box, which then was placed on the floor close beside me. I had been a good diver and swimmer once. I could hold my breath for a good sixty seconds, and already the shuffling footsteps were hastily retreating from the poisoned atmosphere. I crawled upon the floor, flat as a serpent; I had need of my breath now—and the stupefying odour reached my nostrils in one terrible whiff. The white-robed figures were in the doorway: my deadly peril gave me one last flicker of strength: with a sudden movement I stretched out my hands, and caught hold of one of the sandalled feet before me: the priest tripped and measured his length upon the floor, at the very moment that I was trying the same schoolboy trick upon his companion. While, stunned and bruised, they sprawled upon the ground, and, frightened by the sudden shock, tried to struggle to their feet, I had crept past them out by the marble gateway. The fresh air from without put renewed strength into me, while my enemies were probably tasting the noisome odour with which they had sought to render my sleep an eternal one.
My knees shook under me and I felt hideously sick and stiff; but I struggled on from pillar to pillar, skirting the gigantic temple, which had never seemed so vast to me. I wished to reach the farther gateway, find Hugh if he was still there… if not… well! if he had gone, I would still find him, somehow, now that I was free.
The great gateway was open—exhausted I leaned against it: my legs would carry me no farther.