within the tides-第30节
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cage or a mouse inside a trap。〃
It was she who served him the food； of which he was glad； though
with those big slanting black eyes examining him at close range； as
if he had something curious written on his face； she gave him an
uncomfortable sensation。 But anything was better than being
approached by these blear…eyed nightmarish witches。 His
apprehensions somehow had been soothed； perhaps by the sensation of
warmth after severe exposure and the ease of resting after the
exertion of fighting the gale inch by inch all the way。 He had no
doubt of Tom's safety。 He was now sleeping in the mountain camp
having been met by Gonzales' men。
Byrne rose； filled a tin goblet with wine out of a skin hanging on
the wall； and sat down again。 The witch with the mummy face began
to talk to him； ramblingly of old times； she boasted of the inn's
fame in those better days。 Great people in their own coaches
stopped there。 An archbishop slept once in the CASA； a long； long
time ago。
The witch with the puffy face seemed to be listening from her
stool； motionless； except for the trembling of her head。 The girl
（Byrne was certain she was a casual gipsy admitted there for some
reason or other） sat on the hearth stone in the glow of the embers。
She hummed a tune to herself； rattling a pair of castanets slightly
now and then。 At the mention of the archbishop she chuckled
impiously and turned her head to look at Byrne； so that the red
glow of the fire flashed in her black eyes and on her white teeth
under the dark cowl of the enormous overmantel。 And he smiled at
her。
He rested now in the ease of security。 His advent not having been
expected there could be no plot against him in existence。
Drowsiness stole upon his senses。 He enjoyed it； but keeping a
hold； so he thought at least； on his wits； but he must have been
gone further than he thought because he was startled beyond measure
by a fiendish uproar。 He had never heard anything so pitilessly
strident in his life。 The witches had started a fierce quarrel
about something or other。 Whatever its origin they were now only
abusing each other violently； without arguments； their senile
screams expressed nothing but wicked anger and ferocious dismay。
The gipsy girl's black eyes flew from one to the other。 Never
before had Byrne felt himself so removed from fellowship with human
beings。 Before he had really time to understand the subject of the
quarrel； the girl jumped up rattling her castanets loudly。 A
silence fell。 She came up to the table and bending over； her eyes
in his …
〃Senor；〃 she said with decision； 〃You shall sleep in the
archbishop's room。〃
Neither of the witches objected。 The dried…up one bent double was
propped on a stick。 The puffy faced one had now a crutch。
Byrne got up； walked to the door； and turning the key in the
enormous lock put it coolly in his pocket。 This was clearly the
only entrance； and he did not mean to be taken unawares by whatever
danger there might have been lurking outside。
When he turned from the door he saw the two witches 〃affiliated to
the Devil〃 and the Satanic girl looking at him in silence。 He
wondered if Tom Corbin took the same precaution last might。 And
thinking of him he had again that queer impression of his nearness。
The world was perfectly dumb。 And in this stillness he heard the
blood beating in his ears with a confused rushing noise； in which
there seemed to be a voice uttering the words： 〃Mr。 Byrne； look
out； sir。〃 Tom's voice。 He shuddered； for the delusions of the
senses of hearing are the most vivid of all； and from their nature
have a compelling character。
It seemed impossible that Tom should not be there。 Again a slight
chill as of stealthy draught penetrated through his very clothes
and passed over all his body。 He shook off the impression with an
effort。
It was the girl who preceded him upstairs carrying an iron lamp
from the naked flame of which ascended a thin thread of smoke。 Her
soiled white stockings were full of holes。
With the same quiet resolution with which he had locked the door
below； Byrne threw open one after another the doors in the
corridor。 All the rooms were empty except for some nondescript
lumber in one or two。 And the girl seeing what he would be at
stopped every time； raising the smoky light in each doorway
patiently。 Meantime she observed him with sustained attention。
The last door of all she threw open herself。
〃You sleep here； senor；〃 she murmured in a voice light like a
child's breath； offering him the lamp。
〃BUENOS NOCHES； SENORITA；〃 he said politely； taking it from her。
She didn't return the wish audibly； though her lips did move a
little； while her gaze black like a starless night never for a
moment wavered before him。 He stepped in； and as he turned to
close the door she was still there motionless and disturbing； with
her voluptuous mouth and slanting eyes； with the expression of
expectant sensual ferocity of a baffled cat。 He hesitated for a
moment； and in the dumb house he heard again the blood pulsating
ponderously in his ears； while once more the illusion of Tom's
voice speaking earnestly somewhere near by was specially
terrifying； because this time he could not make out the words。
He slammed the door in the girl's face at last； leaving her in the
dark； and he opened it again almost on the instant。 Nobody。 She
had vanished without the slightest sound。 He closed the door
quickly and bolted it with two heavy bolts。
A profound mistrust possessed him suddenly。 Why did the witches
quarrel about letting him sleep here？ And what meant that stare of
the girl as if she wanted to impress his features for ever in her
mind？ His own nervousness alarmed him。 He seemed to himself to be
removed very far from mankind。
He examined his room。 It was not very high； just high enough to
take the bed which stood under an enormous baldaquin…like canopy
from which fell heavy curtains at foot and head； a bed certainly
worthy of an archbishop。 There was a heavy table carved all round
the edges； some arm…chairs of enormous weight like the spoils of a
grandee's palace； a tall shallow wardrobe placed against the wall
and with double doors。 He tried them。 Locked。 A suspicion came
into his mind； and he snatched the lamp to make a closer
examination。 No； it was not a disguised entrance。 That heavy；
tall piece of furniture stood clear of the wall by quite an inch。
He glanced at the bolts of his room door。 No！ No one could get at
him treacherously while he slept。 But would he be able to sleep？
he asked himself anxiously。 If only he had Tom there … the trusty
seaman who had fought at his right hand in a cutting out affair or
two； and had always preached to him the necessity to take care of
himself。 〃For it's no great trick；〃 he used to say； 〃to get
yourself killed in a hot fight。 Any fool can do that。 The proper
pastime is to fight the Frenchies and then live to fight another
day。〃
Byrne found it a hard matter not to fall into listening to the
silence。 Somehow he had the conviction that nothing would break it
unless he heard again the haunting sound of Tom's voice。 He had
heard it twice before。 Odd！ And yet no wonder； he argued with
himself reasonably； since he had been thinking of the man for over
thirty hours continuously and； what's more； inconclusively。 For
his anxiety for Tom had never taken a definite shape。 〃Disappear；〃
was the only word connected with the idea of Tom's danger。 It was
very vague and awful。 〃Disappear！〃 What did that mean？
Byrne shuddered； and then said to himself that he must be a little
feverish。 But Tom had not disappeared。 Byrne had just heard of
him。 And again the young man felt the blood beating in his ears。
He sat still expecting every moment to hear through the pulsating
strokes the sound of Tom's voice。 He waited straining his ears；
but nothing came。 Suddenly the thought occurred to him： 〃He has
not disappeared； but he cannot make himself heard。〃
He jumped up from the arm…chair。 How absurd！ Laying his pistol
and his hanger on the table he took off his boots and； feeling
suddenly too tired to stand； flung himself on the bed which he
found soft and comfortable beyond his hopes。
He had felt very wakeful； but he must have dozed off after all；
because the next thing he knew he was sitting up in bed and trying
to recollect what it was that Tom's voice had said。 Oh！ He
remembered it now。 It had said： 〃Mr。 Byrne！ Look out； sir！〃 A
warning this。 But aga
