Mechanically, rather than with reason, he went to the fifth and last
door. His candle had become extinguished in his haste and after he had
opened the door he stopped at the threshold of the black hall to light
it again. There was a moment's pause as he searched his pockets for a
match, a silence in which he listened as he searched, and suddenly as he
was about to strike the sulphur tipped splint there came to his ears a
sound that held him chained to the spot. It was the sobbing of a woman;
or was it a child? In a moment he knew that it was a woman; and then the
sobbing ceased.
There was nothing but darkness ahead of him; no ray of light shone under
the door; the chamber itself was in utter gloom. As quietly as possible
he relighted his candle. A glance assured him that this hall was
different from the others; it was deeper, and there were two doors at
the end of it instead of one. Through which of these doors had come the
sound of sobbing he had heard?
He approached and listened. Each moment added to his excitement, his
fears, his hopes, but at last he opened the door on the left. The room
was empty; there was the same disorder as before; the same signs of
hurried flight. It was the room on the right! His heart almost stopped
its beating as he placed his hand on the latch, lifted it, and pushed
the door in. Kneeling beside the bed he saw a woman. She had turned
toward the light and in the dim illumination of the room Nathaniel
recognized the beautiful face he had seen at the king's castle the
preceding day--the face of the woman who had sent him to find the
prophet, who had placed her gentle hand on Marion's head as he had
looked through the window.
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