"No," said Rauthgundis, "the dead do not return from the other world! Now it has disappeared--all is dark. Ha! the moon breaks through once--more there it is again! It moves towards the passage-door. What is that shining red in the white light? Ha! it is the Queen--that is her red hair? She stops at the door! She opens it! She is going to murder him in his sleep!"
"God knows, it is the Queen! But she murder him! How could she?"
"She could! But, as I live, she shall not! Follow her! A miracle opens the door to us. But softly, softly!"
And she went out on tiptoe into the court, the axe still in her hand, slowly and stealthily, seeking the shadow. Dromon followed her closely.
Meanwhile Mataswintha, for she it was, had opened the door and gone forward, down many steps and then through a small passage, feeling the way with her hands.
She now reached the door of the prison. She opened it very softly.
Through an aperture high up on the wall, where a stone had been taken out, a slanting strip of moonlight fell into the square and narrow dungeon.
The light revealed the prisoner. He sat motionless upon a block of stone, his back turned to the door, his head supported on his hands.
Mataswintha trembled and leaned against the doorpost. The air felt damp and icy-cold. She shivered. She could not say a word for very horror.
Witichis remarked the draught of air from the open door. He lifted his head, but did not look round.