"Here," said the priest, "if you look out you cannot imagine any possibility of descent, but if you examine carefully you will perceive a narrow ledge among the shrubbery. Go out on this, and follow it along, and you will find it growing wider as it goes down. It will take you all the way to the bottom of this chasm, and there you will find stepping-stones by which to cross the brook, and on the opposite side a trail like this, which will lead you to the top of the opposite ridge."
"I don't think that I should feel inclined to try it," said the lady; "but I am glad, all the same, that I have a mode of retreat. It makes one feel less desperate."
"Oh, you know, I hope to be back again."
"But what shall I do if you do not return?" said the lady.
"That is what troubles me," said the priest. "To think of you making your escape alone—"
"That is not what I meant," said the lady. "I referred to my own self-reproach. If you do not come back, I shall feel as though your blood is required at my hands."
The priest looked at her and gave his short laugh.
"I shouldn't advise you to come after me to the castle," said he. "Your chief difficulty will be the commissariat. If I do not come back before twenty-four hours, you will then have to fly for yourself. In that case, do not go back to the road you were on before. Do not go to the castle. Take this path and go down to the bottom of the chasm, and up the other side to the top of the ridge. Keep under trees as much as possible. Travel due south. Heaven help you! God bless you! Good-bye!"
He looked at the lady. Her eyes, which were fixed on him, seemed overflowing with feeling; but whether of anxiety for him or fear for herself did not appear.
"You seem to me to be going to death," said she, in a low voice, "and I am the cause!"