The floor, which appeared to be comparatively level and smooth, was covered with a sort of Turkish matting, very soft and easy to the feet. Moreover, there was considerable furniture in the place, several chairs, a chest of drawers, a large oaken cabinet and a good sized table. In one corner was a fireplace, and on looking at the roof the observer could detect an aperture where smoke might escape.
Another thing Cordelia saw: an opening into another cave, a chamber beyond this. Tryon saw that she had discovered it, and he bade her to come with him and look.
He did not offer to lay a hand upon her. She followed him, and soon entered another apartment, not so large as the first, but much like it. Here was more furniture, and here was a bed, seemingly clean and freshly made.
“My dear lady, here you will tarry until to-morrow. You will here be safe. No harm can possibly come to you. You shall have plenty to eat; yonder bed is sweet and clean; and you may rest in it without dread.”
“Ralph Tryon! What is your intention toward me? Why have you done this cruel, wicked thing? What end have you in view?”
“Lady, you shall be fully informed on the morrow, and when you have heard all I shall have to say you may not be so greatly surprised that I have done what you are pleased to call a cruel, wicked thing. Wait, wait, my dear girl, and you shall know everything. It would not be well that you should know my purpose without knowing, at the same time, the causes that have moved me, and those I must keep from you a little longer. Have patience. The morrow will soon be here.”
“Oh, Captain Tryon!” She had sprung forward and sank upon her knees before him with her clasped hands upraised.
He stopped her with an oath, and lifted her bodily to her feet and set her back in her chair.
“Lady Cordelia Chester, were all the wealth of all the world at your command, and you could offer it to me for mine own, for it all I would not suffer you to put one of your feet beyond the outer door of yonder cavern until I am ready to take you out on my own terms. Is that plain to you?”
A moment she gazed into his face, a great horror—a nameless, shapeless dread—weighing her down like an incubus, and then she sank back and covered her face with her hands. When she next looked up she was alone with Mary Seymour.