Nino brought his mule close to Hedwig’s.  She was an accomplished horsewoman, and had no difficulty in accommodating herself to the rough country saddle.  Their hands met, and the mules, long accustomed to each other’s company, moved so evenly that the gentle bond was not broken.  But although Hedwig’s fingers twined lovingly with his, and she often turned and looked at him from beneath her hanging veil, she was silent for a long time.  Nino respected her mood, half guessing what she felt, and no sound was heard save an occasional grunt from the countryman as he urged the beasts, and the regular clatter of the hoofs on the stony road.

To tell the truth, Nino was overwhelmed with anxiety; for his quick wits had told him that Benoni, infuriated by the check he had received, would lose no time in remounting the stairs, saddling a horse, and following them.  If only they could reach the steeper part of the ravine they could bid defiance to any horse that ever galloped, for Benoni must inevitably come to grief if he attempted a pursuit into the desolate Serra.  He saw that Hedwig had not apprehended the danger, when once the baron was stopped by the door, conceiving in her heart the impression that he was a prisoner in his own trap.  Nevertheless, they urged the beasts onward hotly, if one may use the word of the long, heavy trot of a mountain mule.  The sturdy countryman never paused or gasped for breath, keeping pace in a steady, determined fashion.

But they need not have been disturbed, for Hedwig’s guess was nearer the truth than Nino’s reasoning.  They knew it later, when Temistocle found them in Rome, and I may as well tell you how it happened.  When he reached the head of the staircase, he took the key from the one side to the other, locked the door, as agreed, and sat down to wait for Hedwig’s rap.  He indeed suspected that it would never come, for he had only pretended not to see the mules; but the prospect of further bribes made him anxious not to lose sight of his mistress, and certainly not to disobey her, in case she really returned.  The staircase opened into the foot of the tower, a broad stone chamber, with unglazed windows.

Temistocle sat himself down to wait on an old bench that had been put there, and the light of the full moon made the place as bright as day.  Now the lock on the door was rusty, like the one below, and creaked loudly every time it was turned.  But Temistocle fancied it would not be heard in the great building, and felt quite safe.  Sitting there, he nodded and fell asleep, tired with the watching.

Benoni had probably passed a fiery half hour with the count.  But I have no means of knowing what was said on either side; at all events, he was in the castle still, and, what is more, he was awake.  When Hedwig opened the upper door and closed it behind her, the sound was distinctly audible to his quick ears, and he probably listened and speculated, and finally yielded to his curiosity.