There they remained in silence as if listening for pursuit; and the deep, hoarse breathing of both sounded painfully loud in the utter darkness.
Humphrey essayed to speak again and again, but he felt that he could not trust himself to utter words.
It was his companion who broke the painful silence as she still clung to his hand.
“I ought to have acted sooner,” she said bitterly. “I might have known it would come to this; but in my cruel selfishness I could not speak—I could not let you go. Do not blame me—do not reproach me. It was my madness; and now the punishment has come.”
“I do not understand you,” he said huskily.
“You do,” she said gently. “But it is no time to think of this. Listen! These men will search every spot to find and slay me—and you; but you shall escape. Now, listen? Below this old place there is a rock chamber, known only to me and Bart—who lies wounded yonder and helpless; but he will not betray the secret, even if he thinks that you are there. You will go to the end of your couch, press heavily with your shoulder against the corner, forcing it in this direction, and then the great stone will move upon a pivot. There is a way down—”
“You need not tell me,” said Humphrey at this point. “I know.”
“Thank Heaven!” she ejaculated. “Keep in hiding there till the wretches are off their guard; and then cautiously make your way by night down to the landing-place, and by some means seize a boat. There will be no guard kept when I am gone.”
“And my people—my poor fellows?”
“Gone,” she said quietly. “They seized a boat and escaped long ago. All has been confusion here since—since I have been mad,” she added piteously.