Alas! the locks and bars were immoveable, and no keys were to be found.—She at length discovered an unfastened door opening into a balcony; it overhung the middle court; the height was fearful; yet would she have gladly ran the hazard of springing below, if she had not dreaded the meeting there with a greater danger, than that from which she was flying. The Castle-Garrison occupied this quarter. She heard from above the conversation, which passed between the sentinels; and its nature was such as to leave her no hope of finding from them protection or even pity. It also informed her, that Wolfenrad’s bounty, and his winking at their committing the most heinous offences, had united them too closely to his interests, to admit even a chance of their acting in opposition to his will.
She wept in agony! She wrung her hands! At length despair took possession of her whole soul. She eyed for a while the torch, which flamed in her hand, and in a moment of desperate resolution she determined to set the Castle on fire; in hopes of either being able to effect her escape during the conflagration, or at least of saving herself by death from existing for one instant with dishonour.
Thus resolved, she was on the point of quitting the balcony when a well-known name struck her ear. She stopt, and listened. Two sentinels stood beneath the balcony, and she heard one tell the other, that it would be necessary to wake Wolfenrad; for that he (the sentinel) was just returned from the outer wall, and had seen a company of soldiers crossing over the plain; that he had hailed one of them, and found them to be part of those who had accompanied Bloomberg to Sargans, and that their leader with the rest of his troops would follow them before mid-day.
—“Bloomberg their leader?” said his companion. “And since when has the gentle peace-loving Bloomberg turned soldier, and what has Wolfenrad to fear from a fellow, who but yesterday followed the plough?”—
“Faith,” rejoined the first, “this is a time, when every countryman exchanges his sickle and ploughshare for a sword and spear; and I know enough of Edmund Bloomberg to be convinced, that the carrying off his pretty wife will make him rage like a mad bull.”—
—“Carrying off, d’ye call it?” said the other; “I think, she seemed to follow Wolfenrad of her own accord; and if Bloomberg draws his sword upon her account, the more fool Bloomberg!”—
A burst of insulting laughter terminated this conversation, every syllable of which pierced Amabel to the heart; and the soldiers separated, having agreed that it was unnecessary to disturb Wolfenrad that night, and that the news of Bloomberg’s return might safely be delayed till the next morning.
Amabel burst into tears; but she soon recollected, that she had better occupation than weeping. A thousand ideas floated before her mind, inspired by the distant hope which she derived from the assurance, that in a few hours her husband would pass within sight of her prison. The great object therefore was to gain time to wait for his arrival with safety, and find means to inform him of her confinement in the Castle.
Accident furnished her with both. She returned trembling into the apartment, where the vile Wolfenrad still lay sleeping, the most odious picture of intoxication that the eye ever witnessed. Despair made her snatch a knife from the table, and she rushed to plunge it into his heart; but here the softness of woman’s nature got the better of her resolution and her vengeance. She threw down the knife, and hastened into the balcony, that in the free air and under the sky thick sown with stars, she might implore the Creator of that sky to look down upon and assist her in this hour of fear and danger. She rose from prayer much comforted: she turned towards the East, and looked eagerly for the arrival of the dawn, whose approach was already announced. She soon perceived, that the balcony in which she stood, though much too high from the ground to admit of her throwing herself from it without being dashed to pieces, at least commanded an extensive view over the surrounding country, and was admirably calculated for summoning any passing travellers to her assistance.
Oh! now, would but the sleeping Libertine doze away the morning, all might be well! Often did she steal softly into the chamber to see, whether he gave any signs of waking; again the knife attracted her gaze. She seized it, and concealed it in her bosom, as her last resource should all others fail.