A dozen steps more brought him to the open air, in the inner courtyard of the castle. Thence a little hazardous climbing enabled him to reach the outer wall, at a point immediately above the chamber in which he had been at work. Leaning over the ruined stonework so that his voice might penetrate through the embrasure of the great window below, he at last answered her repeated calls.
“Hallo!” he cried. “Hallo! Who’s that down there? Is it you, Mrs. Crow? Do you want to shut up early to-night, eh?”
“It is I, Lady Marion Cenarth,” answered a voice from the window below, tartly.
“You, Lady Marion, you!” cried Rees with well-acted astonishment. “Why, are you down in those dungeons? You’ll catch your death of cold.”
Rees would not have believed, ten minutes before, that he, the open-hearted, the recklessly sincere, could have assumed a sentiment he did not feel. But the hunger for hidden gold, the desire to keep his fancied discovery secret, had already done their work upon him.
“Can’t you find your way out? Shall I come down and help you out?”
No answer at first. But she had evidently heard him, for her cries ceased. Rees climbed down much more slowly than he had come up, went to the top of the wooden steps, and called again.
“Lady Marion, Lady Marion, are you still there? Shall I come down and help you?”
She was stumbling towards him over the uneven floor. He leapt down and offered the assistance of his hand. There was only just light enough for her to see it, and for the first moment she refused haughtily, shrinking back as if the very offer had been an insult. The next, she characteristically tried to atone for this conduct by excessive humility, and seized his arm with pathetic eagerness. Rees, impatient and annoyed, helped her up the shaking steps without another word, while she muttered lame apologies for troubling him to come to her.
When they reached the open air, however, and she was able to see his face, the suspicions which had brought her to the castle returned in full force.