By this time his eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness and he could make out the figure of a woman approaching. A door was thrown open and he was asked to enter.
The room in which he found himself was invitingly cozy. It was furnished with an old-fashioned hair-cloth couch and deep chairs. A finely carved round table and an old desk, littered with papers, occupied the rest of the space. The walls were covered in dark leather and decorated with choice etchings. In a corner a choicely carved cupboard stood out in its classic distinction. He had barely time to note these things when he heard the creaking of a door to his left. The hanging was thrust aside and a small but well-built young woman approached smilingly and courtesied to him with quiet self-possession.
“I am Herr Rosen’s daughter, Rachel. Please be seated.”
John bowed, sank into the nearest chair, the bountiful proportions of which he thoroughly enjoyed—it was very comforting after his restless night. At once the young woman plunged into the subject, speaking in fluent German.
“What do you wish me to tell you, Herr Morton? Have no hesitation; you may trust me fully.”
“I am here to take two ladies out of the country, Miss Rosen. Perhaps it will be better if I do not give their full names.” Miss Rosen nodded knowingly. “Very well, then,” continued Morton, “my first object is to be introduced to Miss Mary and Miss Helène. Then I want to find out how they are being detained.”
Miss Rosen hesitated for a moment and then spoke rapidly as if she were thoroughly conversant with the whole matter.
“Miss Marie is more or less a prisoner in the castle—exactly opposite this house”—she pointed in the direction of the red tiled building he had observed in the garden. “Miss Helène, however, is allowed more freedom. She will be here in less than an hour. She would not forsake Miss Marie and is with her as her companion. She comes here every day after chapel for some of the things they are permitted to have. She is supposed to be at her prayers, but she comes to us instead. I will see that you meet her in this room. It would be no use for you to speak to Miss Marie; the poor girl could not help you in any way. Miss Helène is different. She will do whatever you ask her if it means their freedom.”
“How are they confined, Miss Rosen?”
“The Princess—pardon the slip, but no one can hear us here—Miss Marie is in the south wing of the castle, adjoining the chapel, which is built close to the enclosure of the grounds and at the South Gate—the side entrance to the summer castle. If you go through our house that way,” and she pointed to her right, “you will reach Calla Aurel; almost directly opposite to our house is the entrance gate. Marie is never allowed to go out, but Helène is permitted to walk in the town for an hour. If she exceeds that time, she will not be allowed to go back.”