The undertaker’s people were also in the house making preliminary arrangements for the approaching double funeral. And the servants of the family were continually passing to and fro, waiting upon them.
Malcolm passed through them all and went to his own chamber, locked himself in, and threw himself upon a chair near the bay window that overlooked the Black Pool.
It was a beautiful summer night, and the stars that spangled the clear, blue-black canopy of heaven were reflected on the surface of the Black Pool like jewels upon an Ethiope’s dark bosom.
But Malcolm had no eye for the beauty of the starlight night. He was thinking of that black and endless night that had gathered over Eudora’s head. He rested his elbow upon the arms of his chair, and bowed his head upon his hand, and thus he sat for more than an hour without changing his position. Then he arose and looked forth from the window, and turned and paced the floor, stopping at intervals to listen. Thus passed another hour. And by this time the troubled household had settled to repose, and all was quiet.
Then Malcolm Montrose left his room, locking the door and taking the key with him, and passed down the long corridor leading to the central upper-hall and the grand staircase. When he entered the hall he saw the constable standing on guard before the chamber door of the imprisoned girl. The man was wide-awake, on the alert, and touched his hat as Mr. Montrose passed. Malcolm went down the great staircase and through the deserted lower hall to the main entrance, where he unbarred and unlocked the doors and let himself out.
He took his way immediately to the stables, entered them, drew forth a light chaise, led out a swift horse, put him between the shafts, and finally jumped into the driver’s seat, and drove off through the northern gate towards a thickly-wooded part of the park until he reached the ruins of an ancient nunnery. Then he jumped out and fastened his horse to a tree, and sought the cellars of the ruins, reiterating his resolution:
“I have staked my life, soul, and honor upon Eudora’s innocence, and now to peril life, soul, and honor for Eudora’s salvation!”
CHAPTER VI.
THE UNDERGROUND PASSAGE.
“’Tis sure some dream, some vision wild!
What, I, of rank and wealth the child,