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When his meditations had continued for something like ten minutes, he rose from the bed, blew a cloud of smoke, stretched himself, strapped his valise once more, gave himself what the sailors call a hoist, that he might be sure his money-belt was in its proper position, and then unlocked the door, passed out, re-locked it after him, and returned to the bar.
But suddenly my dagger struck something hard, and in a moment I grasped the key. It opened the lock. I stood upon the ledge outside, and re-locked the door; then dashed across the plank over the moat, and made for the forest. I had no time to spare. My guards might be already returned to consciousness and doing their best to alarm the house from within their prison.
"I was but jesting," humbly said the man as he re-locked the gate; "for you must well know that we are not allowed to take bribes, though where the harm of it would be, I confess I cannot see." Having succeeded in passing the barrier, Edmund did not stay to argue the question with the gatekeeper.
This one he put bit by bit into his mouth, chewing the paper into a pulp till he swallowed it. When he had done this, and had re-locked his own drawers, he walked across to the other table, Mr Longestaffe's table, and pulled the handle of one of the drawers. It opened; and then, without touching the contents, he again closed it.
The door was flung violently open from without, a heavy-built, clean-shaven, sharp-featured man stepped into the room, slammed the door shut behind him, re-locked it, and swept a shrewd, inquisitive, suspicious glance about the place. "It took you a damned long time to open that door, Mister Smarlinghue!" he said sharply.
Having carefully shut and re-locked the door, the interpreter led them through a narrow passage, which terminated in the usual square court of Moorish houses. This was very small, and, like all such courts, had no roof, so that a pleasant gleam of sunshine flickered through the creepers which twined up its pillars and gleamed on the drops that fell from a tinkling fountain in the centre.
With steady hands and sure fingers, she dropped some of that liquid into the wine, carefully counting the drops. Then she restored the phial to its hiding-place and re-locked the box after which, taking up a spoon which lay on her table, she poured out a little of the sherry and smelled and tasted it. No smell other than that which ought to be there; no taste other than was proper.
She pondered a moment and then she re-locked the closet door, replacing the key on its wooden peg. There was a sound of footsteps approaching; and instantly the light went out, though the Masked Lady had not blown upon it. Pitch darkness for a moment, then the flash of a light. The mother of Cinderella was standing near the mantel, lighting the candle, which was back in its place again.
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