Adventure Magazine Cover — page 153: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Way of Sinners and my band in this castle, doomed to pace walls, block gates, cannonade and be cannonaded, eat salt-meat and unraised bread, kill or be killed by the end of the siege—for what, and for whose benefit? Now I had thirty years of age; whereinto had been crowded the events of most men’s long lives; meseemed that the pattern of ex- istence should be declaring itself amid the tangle of incident; that the bright thread to be displayed by all this weaving, that the path sought in all this wandering, that the goal searched for by all this quest, should soon be in sight. While I had been happy, I had thought little of all this; ’twas this night’s dream, and the loss I did feel it forthshadowed, had reminded me. After a little more thought, unhappy and useless as what had gone be- fore, I arose, threw on my clothes and a cloak, passed the staring sentry at my door, and went to walk in the courtyard. The whole castle was silent as the grave, except for the sounds that must always come from a sleeping army; a snore occasionally, and sometimes the clatter of a horse’s shoes, shifting on the flags of the stables. And the courtyard was dark—the darker for the rose glare in the southern sky, where the enemy’s watch-fires were burning beyond our walls. Against this tinting of the night, the towers of the castle lifted themselves solemn and heavy and inscrutable; the southeast with its watch-balcony, whereon gleamed the armor of a sentinel; the sullen southwest, commanding the great gate; then, as I com- pleted half my tour of the court, came into view the turret over the precipice, and the northwest tower, wherein were the Count- ess Anita’s apartments. There was no light in her windows; but as I passed below, meseemed I saw her, in her white dress of that evening, standing at an open pane. I passed on; three times more, increasing my speed as I inclined more and more to think, did I encircle the yard; and the fourth time, I heard the countess laugh to herself as I passed. “Captain!” she called softly. “Signora?”’ She opened the window wide, and leaned forth with her arms upon the sill. Before she said more, however, she reached within to the couch behind her, and withdrew a cushion to save her elbows from the rough- ness of the stone. ‘Seemingly, thou, too, dost find it 147 impossible to sleep,” says she. “Is it re- morse for having locked me up, Captain?’’ “T have not thought of the matter again,” said I; which was no more than the truth. ‘Yet ’twas not a deed for which I should have thought thou had taste.” “T have no taste in such matters, sig- nora; save that an order given by me must be obeyed.” She laughed again; then paused. “Captain,” says she at last, “I doubt *tis thy intention to keep me a prisoner until such time as I shall be more—less—”’ “Yes, signora.”’ ‘““Who is to be the judge of that time?” ““Myself.”’ She laughed again, and stood. ‘‘Then I beseech you, since I have no taste for captivity, and we are both awake, to do me the honor of a little conversation with thee now, Signor Captain. Thou knowest the stairway.” This surprized me much. “It is—very late.”’ ‘The remark should have come from me, were it to be made at all,” says the count- ess haughtily. “I pray you, Captain, oblige me.”’ And she shut the window; standing be- low, much inclined for conversation, no mat- ter with whom, yet doubtful of this affair, I heard her speak to her waiting-woman, and saw the window glow with the light of a candle. Well—I was puzzled; for her tone, and above all, her laugh, had not prepared me for a quick submission to discipline; but, after hesitance, I opened the stairway door that gave on the court, mounted the stairs, and commanded the sentry to knock upon the broken door. The serving woman opened it; asked my name, announced me as if I were a stranger from a thousand leagues distance, and at last, having received permission to admit me, did open the door with a courtesy. “‘Go!”’ says Anita to her. “Under favor, I should be obliged,”’ I put in, “if your Ladyship would command her to leave open the door.”’ ‘“‘The door?” I perceived two bright spots of red spring into the countess’ cheeks as she stood by the table with the candle upon it. “Upon God’s body, Master Captain, you are pleased to be very insulting.” “T am aware,” I told her, “that the sug- gestion should have come from your Lady- ship, for her own reasons. Since it has not COnmclboooks.c©