It was just the kind of thing he would have expected from a girl of Arithelli's type,—to go about dropping letters. She had not method enough even to put on her clothes decently; they always looked as if they were falling off, and her hair as if it was coming down.
Sapristi! A fine agent for the Cause! and one fit to be trusted with important documents.
Poleski must have been quite mad when he suggested introducing her to the Brotherhood, and he himself deserved even more blame for having as much as listened to the suggestion.
A girl of that age, picked up from nowhere, and like the rest of her sex a mass of lies and vanity.
He held the lantern above his head, and peered round. Surely they had not been so utterly insane as to have attempted to escape to-night? All the horses and mules were there safe enough, and obviously they would not attempt to walk.
He strode towards the door, meeting them on the threshold, and in spite of himself could not help being impressed by the uncanny likeness between the two, in form and outline.
They had even the same trick of movement.
The thought of what he had found made him feel almost good-humoured, although he took good care that no one else should benefit by this unusual mood.
"You have found yourself a little distraction, hein?" he said, ignoring Arithelli's presence. "We are not up here for amusement all the same. There's nothing done. I supposed you had come down to see to the horses."
Vardri strolled across to a rack, and took down an armful of saddles and stirrups.