Once more being left to the solitude of my prison-chamber, a thought came, sharply shooting like an arrow, through my sombre musings. The same two men always appeared with the food; just two men, I told myself, against one. True, they were armed, and I was not; but might not a quick, dexterous, unexpected assault give me my opportunity? And if I could but get out of the room, could I not trust to my star, and to my knowledge of the castle, to find some way of escape? And if I failed? Well, the worst was death, and I had faced it before. And so the project grew, and took a firm hold of me.
Not thus, however, had it been ordained.
So agitated was I by the mere prospect of regaining my liberty, that it was long ere I went to sleep, and then methought I dreamed a happy dream.
There was, as it were, a light in that mean room—not a great brightness, but a dimly burning light, itself a shadow among other shadows. And behind that shadow, a pale presence and a ghostly, stood Eva O’Malley, and by her side a muffled figure, vague and indistinct, but seen darkly as in a mirror over which the breath has passed. Clearer, and yet more clearly, there were bodied forth the face and form I knew and loved; her hand touched me, and my name was whispered softly in my ear.
“Ruari! Ruari!”
I heard the rustle of her garments; then the shadow danced along the wall and died away, as the light came closer to my face.
“Ruari! Ruari!”
“O my love! my love!” cried I.
“Ruari! Ruari! Come!” said she.