I obeyed almost blindly, for I was beginning to feel exhausted. She extended her hand—I caught it, and found myself drawn into a recess or cavern in the rock, of some size, screened above and below by the projecting cliffs.
"Thank God!" said Magdalen. "We may now rest for some hours. The king's bloodhounds would not track us hither, and I don't believe the wild beasts yonder will try. They will think doubtless that you have perished in the flames. 'Tis not the first time this cavern has sheltered the saints in time of persecution. It was mine own home for many days, and there are others like it on these wilds, known only to a few of the faithful."
As she spoke, she was heaping together some dried herbage in one corner, and she now bade me lie down, and covered me with the same. She then produced some dried flesh and a little flask of wine, and would have me eat and drink, setting herself the example.
"And now tell me, how is my husband?" said I.
"Well in health, but sore distressed in mind," was the answer. "He believes, as they all do, that you have been carried off by pirates."
"And how came you to think otherwise?" I asked again.
"For several reasons," she answered. "I had seen one that I knew for a priest, despite his secular dress, peeping and prying about the place, and I knew he had questioned the children as to your comings and goings. I had thought to warn you, but was too late. Then I did not believe a pirate would have taken such a roundabout course, or would have known the country so well, and—I cannot well tell you, but it was borne in on my mind that you were in mine old prison; and I was determined at least to find out. I had made up my mind to gain entrance as a pilgrim to the shrine above, and I had some precious relics wherewith to pay my way," she added, with a bitter smile.
"That would have been putting your head into the lion's mouth with a vengeance!" I said.
"Nay, they would not have known me. The Lady is away, and all who had ever seen me were dead, or in no case to recognize me. You know I never frequented the convent gates, and while I was a prisoner, no one saw me but that kind old woman who waited on me, and the old priest. Beside that, my stained face and gray hair would have been a good enough disguise. Then when I saw how thick the ivy grew on the old tower, it occurred to me that I might gain entrance in that way, and no thanks to any of them; and I was considering the matter when you called me. But how did you come to the top of the tower?"
I told her how it had chanced with me. "And what is to be done now?"