She stopped, and buried her face in her hands. After a moment she went on. "The sound stopped just as I found myself crawling on hands and knees up the stone stairway on the other side. Another started—that awful groaning—music—but it didn't draw me. I ran down the steps and scurried away like a rabbit trying to find a place to hide.
"After a while I came back—I thought you must be in there—and I climbed up to the window. And—and—Cliff, it's hellish!"
Her eyes, boring into his, widened in the same rigid terror he had seen in them when he joined her.
"We could go back to the cove and get away on the Ariel, Vilma," Cliff said stonily. "And if you think we should, we will. But—I brought our friends here, and—well, I want to get them out if I can."
With an effort Vilma nodded. "Of course. We can't do anything else."
He released her and stepped up to the wall.
"I'm going to see what's going on in there," he said. "You wait here till I come down."
In sudden dread Vilma seized his arm. "No, Cliff. I couldn't stand waiting here alone. I'll go with you."
He nodded understandingly. And together they began climbing the precipitous wall, fitting hands and feet in step-like crevices that made progress fairly rapid. Soon they were crouching on a wide stone ledge, clinging to thin, rusted bars, staring into the black castle.