“There is a cave farther down the mountain. Shall we take the chance of reaching it?”
“By all means. I can't endure the cold after being cooped up for so long.”
They followed the winding road for some distance down the mountain, coming at last to a point where a small path branched off. It was the path leading down the side of the steep overlooking the city, and upon that side no wagon-road could be built. Seven thousand feet below stretched the sleeping, moon-lit city. Standing out on the brow of the mountain they seemed to be the only living objects in the world. There was no sign of life above, below or beside them.
“How long should we be in making the descent?” asked Lorry, a sort of terror possessing him as he looked from the dizzy height into the ghost-like dimness below.
“Three hours, if you are strong.”
“And how are we to get into the castle? I hadn't thought of that.”
“There is a secret entrance,” said Quinnox, maliciously enjoying the insistent one's acknowledgment of weakness. “If we reach it safely I can take you underground to the old dungeons beneath the castle. It may be some time before you can enter the halls above, for the secret of that passage is guarded jealously. There are but five people who know of its existence.”
“Great confidence is placed in you, I see, and worthily, I am sure. How is it that you are trusted so implicitly?”
“I inherit the confidence. The captain of the guard is born to his position. My ancestors held the place before me, and not one betrayed the trust. The first-born in the last ten generations has been the captain of the guard in the royal palace, possessing all its secrets. I shall be the first to betray the trust—and for a man who is nothing to me.”
“I suppose you consider me selfish and vile for placing you in this position,” said Lorry, somewhat contritely.