"
Alone, with bent head, he paced back and forwards across the courtyard
under the wavering light of the torches. Very speedily he concluded that
no plan could be formed until Greusel made his report regarding the
intricacies of the Castle.
"My luck is against me! My luck is against me!" he said aloud to
himself, as if the sound of his own voice might suggest some way out of
the difficulty.
"Luck always turns against a thief and a marauder," said a sweet and
clear voice behind him; "and how can it be otherwise, when the
gallows-tree stands at the end of his journey."
Roland stopped in his walk, and turned abruptly towards the sound. He
saw standing there, just descended from the stairway at her back, one
quite evidently a lady; not more than eighteen, perhaps, but
nevertheless with a flash of defiance in her somber eyes, which were
bent fearlessly upon him. The two tirewomen accompanying her shrank
timorously to the background, palpably panic-stricken, and ready to
faint with fright.
"Ah, Madam, how came you here?" cried Roland, ignoring her insulting
words, too much surprised by her beauty of face and form to think of
aught else.
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