She then considered, that it would be vain to
attempt an escape from Barnardine, by flight, since the length and the
intricacy of the way she had passed would soon enable him to overtake
her, who was unacquainted with the turnings, and whose feebleness
would not suffer her to run long with swiftness. She feared equally
to irritate him by a disclosure of her suspicions, which a refusal to
accompany him further certainly would do; and, since she was already
as much in his power as it was possible she could be, if she proceeded,
she, at length, determined to suppress, as far as she could, the
appearance of apprehension, and to follow silently whither he designed
to lead her.
Pale with horror and anxiety, she now waited till
Barnardine had trimmed the torch, and, as her sight glanced again upon
the grave, she could not forbear enquiring, for whom it was prepared.
He took his eyes from the torch, and fixed them upon her face without
speaking. She faintly repeated the question, but the man, shaking the
torch, passed on; and she followed, trembling, to a second flight of
steps, having ascended which, a door delivered them into the first court
of the castle. As they crossed it, the light shewed the high black walls
around them, fringed with long grass and dank weeds, that found a scanty
soil among the mouldering stones; the heavy buttresses, with, here and
there, between them, a narrow grate, that admitted a freer circulation
of air to the court, the massy iron gates, that led to the castle, whose
clustering turrets appeared above, and, opposite, the huge towers and
arch of the portal itself. In this scene the large, uncouth person of
Barnardine, bearing the torch, formed a characteristic figure. This
Barnardine was wrapt in a long dark cloak, which scarcely allowed
the kind of half-boots, or sandals, that were laced upon his legs, to
appear, and shewed only the point of a broad sword, which he usually
wore, slung in a belt across his shoulders. On his head was a heavy flat
velvet cap, somewhat resembling a turban, in which was a short feather;
the visage beneath it shewed strong features, and a countenance furrowed
with the lines of cunning and darkened by habitual discontent.
The view of the court, however, reanimated Emily, who, as she crossed
silently towards the portal, began to hope, that her own fears, and not
the treachery of Barnardine, had deceived her. She looked anxiously
up at the first casement, that appeared above the lofty arch of the
portcullis; but it was dark, and she enquired, whether it belonged to
the chamber, where Madame Montoni was confined. Emily spoke low, and
Barnardine, perhaps, did not hear her question, for he returned no
answer; and they, soon after, entered the postern door of the gate-way,
which brought them to the foot of a narrow stair-case, that wound up one
of the towers.