Chartley waited and listened, while his slave performed the task he had set him about; and then returning to Iola, after he had lighted the lamp, he said--
"I can hear no sound. It was good Ibn Ayoub's fancy, I suppose, though his ears are as sharp as those of a page in a fairy tale. He traced me through the forest to-night, by the sound of my horse's feet, as surely as a hound traces the deer by the scent.--Nay, cheer up, sweet Iola, or we shall both grow sad and fanciful in this old pile. What though we have no Malvoisie, there is better wine than ever flowed from the grape, or was imprisoned in a bottle--the wine of the heart, dear lady, of the heart unconscious of evil, the bright gay spirit, the cheerful contentment with the event of the hour, the fearless trust of the morrow. 'Tis but a little time weaken be together. Let us make the moments pleasant as they fly; for to me they will fly all too soon. Come, let us look round the hall, and see what it contains;" and he held the lamp high up above his head, gazing round, but unable to see the whole of the vast extent of the chamber.
"Oh, there is nothing here," answered Iola. "It has been stripped of every thing, long, long ago. But there are some things in the chambers above, which the plunderers did not think it worth while to bring down, I suppose--settles and stools, and a huge bed, which they say was made in the room where it stands, and cannot pass the door."
"Come, we will go and see them," cried Chartley. "Sitting on these cold stones is not made for those delicate limbs; and perchance we may find something which we can bring down. But first let the Arab light the fire here; and then we will try and close the great door."
No great difficulty occurred in either process; for the Arab contrived, on two broad pieces of wood, to bring in a sufficient quantity of embers speedily to kindle a large fire on the wide hearth of the old hall, and the ponderous door, though it had one or two large holes in it, and groaned most desperately at being forced to turn upon its hinges--a process which it probably had not undergone for more than half a century--nevertheless swung to easily enough, and the heavy bolt was forced into the deep hole made for its reception in the stone-work.
When the young lord turned round, after aiding the Arab in this work, the aspect that the hall presented was cheerful enough. The pile of wood on the hearth had caught fire at once; and, mingled with the smoke which was rushing up the wide chimney, were thick columns of many coloured flame, which cast a warm and flickering glow over the ancient stone walls and upon the painted glass of the windows, where knights, and priests, and angels, and apostles, were grouped in somewhat strange confusion. In the bright blaze of the fire, on the opposite side of the hearth, stood the fair form of Iola, wrapped indeed in the earl's surcoat, which veiled, without altogether concealing, the beautiful outline of the figure. The long sable-lined sleeves, trailing upon the ground, seemed to form a sort of train behind her as she stood, while the beautiful neck and shoulders rose from the furred collar, lightly fastened over her chest, and the fair and speaking countenance, turned towards those who were closing the door, was now shown in bright light, now cast into shadowy indistinctness as the flame rose and fell.
Chartley gazed at her, and thought it was the fairest sight he had ever seen; and sensations rose up in his breast, which he took no pains to master. He was young, free, trustful, full of happy confidence in the future, and he said to himself--"Why not? Roam the world over, can I find anything more lovely than she is, more gentle, more sweet, more full of noble feelings and bright thoughts, than she seems. In marriage one always cuts one's fate upon a die, the fall of which is uncertain,--Why not?--But not now, not now," he continued, the spirit of gentlemanly courtesy coming to guide him instantly; "I must wait till she is free from danger, and then seek her when she is safe and in the midst of her friends again. I must not agitate or alarm her now."
Though the resolution was a strong one, as well as a good one, it was difficult to keep the feelings which were busy at his heart from influencing his manner in some degree. Nor, to say truth, did he keep them in such subjection. He would have liked very much to make her sit beside him, and, with his arm cast around her, pillow her beautiful head upon his bosom, while she took the repose so needful to her. He would have liked to stand before that open hearth, with her hand clasped in his, and their eyes fixed upon the faces and landscapes in the fire, talking of love and dreaming of happy days. He did none of these things; but yet there was a softness and a tenderness in his manner and his tone, every now and then, which went thrilling through Iola's young fresh heart, and creating dreads for herself and for him, which might have shaken her terribly, had it not been for the gay and sparkling spirit which broke forth in his conversation from time to time, and carried away all heavier thoughts upon its wings.
"Now come," he said, taking up the lamp after he had paused by her side for a moment, "let us go up to these chambers above, and see if we can find some seat or another, that we can bring down. You have been walking and standing a long long while; and those beautiful little feet will be sadly tired, unless we can discover some means of resting them. I would rather walk a hundred miles than stand an hour. I have always thought that a bird's life must be a sad wearisome one, except when it is on the wing, to stand all day on a bare bough with those thin shanks of its, and nothing to do but trim its feathers."
"And sing its songs," said Iola, following him. "It must have its consolation there."