As these seemed to be the
only means of exit from the chateau, she felt that she was a prisoner
indeed, and understood why it had not been deemed necessary to lock any
of the inner doors against her. She walked slowly back to the gallery,
entered it by the glass door, found her lamp burning tranquilly just
where she had left it, retraced her steps swiftly through the long suite
of spacious apartments already described and flew up the grand staircase
to her own room, congratulating herself upon not having been detected in
her wanderings. She put her lamp down in the antechamber, but paused in
terror on the threshold of the inner room, stifling a shriek that
had nearly escaped her as she caught sight of a strange, wild figure
crouching on the hearth. But her fears were short-lived, for with an
exclamation of delight the intruder sprang towards her and she saw that
it was Chiquita--but Chiquita in boy's clothes.
"Have you got the knife yet?" said the strange little creature abruptly
to Isabelle--"the knife with three bonny red marks."
"Yes, Chiquita, I have it here in my bosom," she replied. "But why do
you ask? Is my life in danger?"
"A knife," said the child with fierce, sparkling eyes, "a knife is a
faithful friend and servant; it never betrays or fails its master, if he
is careful to give it a drink now and then, for a knife is often thirsty
you know.
Pages:
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499