scarcely possible that it was unguarded.  Naladi had special reasons for looking carefully after the safe keeping of this captive, and was not likely to forget.  I discovered no outward signs of life, but was too thoroughly versed in wilderness ways to count upon that, knowing that each dark shadow along the wall might conceal some crouching stealthy figure, ready to pounce forth.  With utmost care, anxiously scanning the silent hillside, I drew myself forward, hardly venturing upon a full breath, until I finally rested on my breast barely three paces from where I believed the entrance must be.

I dreaded any attempt to advance into the unknown, yet I had no intention of withdrawing until I had accomplished that end for which I came.  To retreat was foreign to my nature; indeed, I was now so close to Eloise, it required an effort of will to restrain a desire to rush blindly forward.  But long training overcame this rash impulse.  I rested there, silent as a savage, seeking to trace each detail of what was barely beyond my hand.  It was little enough I could distinguish, straining my eyes to the utmost; and finally, despairing of learning more, I advanced my hands, silently groping for something to grasp, when I was instantly frozen into a recumbent statue by a slight movement of something directly in front.  This was so faint that, had not my every nerve been tense, I should scarcely have noted it at all.  Yet there could be no doubt—­some one had given a slight shiver, as though from the chill of the night air; whoever it might be, the person was not three paces from my out-stretched hands, and, as near as I could judge, must be sitting on the very threshold of the entrance.

I was in an awkward position.  How I had succeeded in arriving there without attracting attention was little short of miraculous.  I durst not venture on any retrograde movement; I even pressed my mouth against the hard earth, the better to deaden the sound of breathing.  I know not how long I remained thus; it was until my strained muscles appeared to cord themselves, and I could scarcely keep back a moan of pain.  Yet no other sound came from that mysterious presence.  Intently as I listened, not so much as the faint sound of breathing reached me.  Still I could not have been deceived; there assuredly had been movement; I distinctly felt a consciousness of other presence, so that every nerve tingled, and it required the utmost self-control to hold me still.  I fairly throbbed with insane impulses to leap forward and solve the mystery.

Who could be lurking there in such silence?  It must assuredly be an enemy, a guard stationed to watch over the fair prisoner within; doubtless, he would remain until relieved by some other.  What hope for successful advance held me in such agony of mind and body?  I felt that I must relieve my cramped limbs or else scream aloud in spite of every effort at control.  Slowly I drew back, my outspread