“This is hopeless,” Ludovic said despairingly, at length, when they had crept for some time through the turnings of the rocky fastness. “It seems sheer folly in a place like this to expect that we can light upon Ruperta’s prison. There may be chambers running far into the rock itself of which we from the outside can know nothing.”
“It is a fairly impregnable dwelling-place,” Ompertz assented dryly. “With accommodation such as this establishment affords, the man would be a fool if he cannot keep his prisons snug away from observation. It seems to me that the sooner your Highness sets off for more effective help than we can hope to give, the less time will be lost in the Princess’s rescue.”
To continue in their present position was too perilous. With discovery threatening them every moment, to attempt a leisurely examination of the building was madness. They had noted a winding path with rough steps which seemed to lead up into the woods above.
“Let us go up here and make one more survey,” Ludovic said, “and then I will lose no more time in seeking help.”
The ascent was fortunately screened from observation by a rocky wall on each side. They lost no time in climbing it, and soon found themselves once more among the trees high above the castle. From where they now stood many of the windows were visible, although they themselves, keeping back in the obscurity of the wood, were tolerably safe from observation. They crept along well within the fringe of the trees till they could look down upon a court-yard formed in a triangular opening in the rock, and having for its base a wall of the castle. In this several men were moving about, the first signs of the busy life of the place which their reconnaissance had shown them. But this sight advanced them nowise towards the object they sought. That the place was well manned was obvious; in the teeth of such a garrison to hope to get at the prisoners was out of the question. Even Ompertz was without hope.
“There might be a chance at night for finding out something as to their situation,” he said dubiously. “But I would not give a kreutzer for it. This is a hard nut, and we shall break our teeth before we crack it.”
“You are right, my friend,” replied Ludovic; “and I repent now that we have wasted these hours in this vain spying. Hateful as it is to me to turn my back on this brigand’s den while Ruperta is there, I will lose no more time in bringing those who shall force it. Though, Heaven knows, I seem poor and powerless enough now.”
“I will see your Highness on your way,” Ompertz said, “and then return to my post here.”
They turned and had ascended but a few paces through the wood when by a common impulse they stopped. A figure stood before them, its presence made known so suddenly that they could not have told whence it had sprung—the figure of a woman. With the first glance of surprise, Ludovic saw that it was she of whom he had caught that painful glimpse in the doorway the night before. But her face was now no more contorted by passion; save for an expression of troubled purpose it was calm enough for its dark, striking beauty to be fully seen. She was dressed in a close-fitting gown of greenish brown cloth the colour of which made her not easily distinguishable among the trees when her face was not seen. With the slight repellent frown on her face, she seemed indeed to be the unpropitious spirit of that wild forest.
For a few moments she and the two men stood confronted in the silence of surprise and doubt. Then she spoke.