It was rough climbing, and half way up Moore called a halt, to give the Princess a short rest; then they went on, stumbling, slipping, scrambling, trying to go quietly, and yet, it seemed, making noise sufficient to wake every one in Lotzen Castle.
But at last they reached the top, and the Princess leaned against the wall, breathless and trembling from the unaccustomed exertion.
Moore raised his hand for silence. In the intense calm of the night, the lightest noise would have echoed trebly loud, yet the only sound they heard was the splashing of the Dreer among its rocks, in the fog strewn valley far below. He drew out his watch, and after much looking made out the time.
“It’s after one o’clock,” he whispered; “when Your Highness is ready——”
“I’m ready now,” said she, and turned at once to the gate.
“Quiet, man, quiet!” Moore cautioned, as Jessac’s key scraped into the lock, and suddenly turned it with a loud snap. The old man pushed the door back slowly; the arch was twenty feet through, and the darkness impenetrable; but he entered unhesitatingly, and the others with him, Moore’s hand on the Regent’s arm.
“Can you find the stone without a light?” he asked.
“Easily, sir! ... here it is—stand back, my lord, or it may hit you ... there!”
There was a slight creak, and Moore was sensible of something swinging up by his face.
“It’s open, sir,” said Jessac; “but best not show a light until we are inside, it might be seen in the courtyard—I’ll go in first—bend low or you’ll strike your head.”