She was very weary; but that sight gave her strength; and, with a quickened pace, she hurried on. The lights grew more distinct as she advanced, and she caught a faint glimpse of the buildings before her. There were cottages, evidently, and a little church; but a larger and more imposing edifice appeared on the left. It might be a stronghold--it might be a monastery or convent; and Adelaide tried to recollect all she had heard of the places in the neighbourhood, in order to divine what the building could be that now rose before her eyes, towering higher over the trees every step, as she came nearer. She knew not, however, how far she had gone, or what direction she had taken, and she only puzzled herself with conjectures, till she arrived at the first house of the village, which stood a little in advance of those tall walls, from which no light proceeded. From two windows of the lesser building, indeed, the friendly rays were streaming plentifully; and Adelaide determined to pause there, and ask for shelter; but she found some difficulty in approaching it. It was a small house, within a garden, apparently neither the cottage of a peasant, nor the dwelling of a farmer; for there was a low wall round the garden, and that wall, again, was surrounded by a foss, full of water. It did not seem, indeed, defensible against any large force; but it was, at all events, guarded against the sudden attack of maurauders; and Adelaide thought she could see the wall winding along till it joined that of the larger building behind. On the side next to her she could find no entrance, nor any means of passing the moat; but when she had walked on, round the angle of the wall, there appeared a little wooden bridge, and a door, with the masonry raised several feet on either side, so that no one approaching by the bridge could leap over into the garden. By the side of the door was the large iron pulley of a bell; but the young wanderer paused, doubting whether she should ring there, or go on to one of the cottages a little further up the hill. She was very weary, however; her limbs felt powerless; her heart was faint; and with a feeling like despair, she put forth her hand and rang the bell.
The next minute she heard a door open within the enclosure, and a step cross the garden. Then a wooden shutter was drawn back from before a small aperture in the gate, barred with iron; and a voice asked, "Who is there?"
It was a woman's tongue; and oh, how sweetly it sounded in Adelaide's ears!
"I have lost my way in the wood," she replied, "and have suffered much. I am wet, weary, and faint, and I pray you give me shelter for the night, in Our Lady's name."
"Are you alone, poor thing?" asked the woman.
"Quite," answered the lady: "I was not alone in truth, for I had some men from the abbey of--" She paused, and omitting the name, went on--"from the abbey, with me and my maid; but we were met by an armed band, who attacked us, and I fled. Since then I have wandered on, and know not where I am."
The woman uttered a short exclamation, as of surprise; but she opened the door quickly, and Adelaide, the moment after, stood in a little garden pleasantly laid out in walks covered over with vines trained upon poles.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
"Your steps totter, poor child," said the woman who opened the gate to Adelaide; "here, lean upon my arm; but first let me make fast the door. We live in strange bad times; but here you will be safe, if there is safety to be found; for no one will venture to assail the Convent of the Holy Cross, or those who live beneath its walls."
Adelaide made no reply; for there are moments when the motives for exertion having ceased, the very relief from terror and anxiety is in itself overpowering, and the corporeal frame yields at the instant of deliverance to the weight it had borne up under during the period of peril. She perceived by a faint light, which streamed from the half open door of the house, that the person who spoke to her was not habited in the garb of a nun, although she mentioned the convent as her assurance of security; but Adelaide could ask no question, make no reply. Everything seemed indistinct and misty; the gardens, with the rays from the windows and the door pouring in long lines through the green leaves of the vine, swam before her eyes; her limbs lost their power, her tongue clove to her mouth, and it was with difficulty that, aided even by the woman's arm, she reached the threshold of the house. Her companion pushed the door further open; and supported her up the little step, but at the top the poor girl leaned more heavily still upon her guide's arm, and the next instant sank gradually, and even slowly, down to the ground; while the old woman held her up as well as she could, calling to some one within for assistance.