"Oh, do not leave me here alone!" pleaded Sybil. "If I must stay, stay with me! I do not fear death; but oh! I fear these men! Do not leave me!"
"I must, for your own safety. They must not miss me, or their suspicions will be aroused."
Then pointing to a bed of moss, and recommending her guest to lie down and seek repose, Gentiliska glided away through the labyrinth of caves and was lost to sight and hearing.
Sybil's first impulse was to start up and run after her hostess, but she restrained herself, and sank half fainting upon the heap of moss.
There was but a faint sparkling of light in the cave, coming from a crevice in the roof through which the moonlight entered, and glancing down, struck here and there upon the stalactites on the walls.
"Seek repose," had been the advice of Gentiliska.
Sybil dared not seek it if she could, and could not have found it if she had. She lay there with her eyes wide open, staring towards the entrance of the cavern, as if she feared the sudden apparition of some horrid shape. She lay there with every nerve strung up to the severest tension, and every faculty of mind and body on the alert. She scarcely breathed, but lay motionless, and watched and listened intently. Hour after hour passed in this stern tension of her frame, this trance-like stillness and silence, when at length she fancied she heard a creeping, stealthy step approaching. Nearly frozen with terror, she listened and watched more intently than ever. Alone, helpless, in darkness and solitude, what horrid fate must she meet! The creeping, cautious footstep drew nearer, nearer!
Oh, Heaven! it was no fancy! The entrance of the cavern was more deeply darkened for one moment, and then the huge form of Moloch stood within the cavern and nearly filled it up.
Paralyzed with horror, Sybil could neither move nor cry out—not even when the monster approached the bed and put his profane hand upon her face.