Bote 'tis very good. Why don't you
drink some?'

'I could not', I repeated. And Madame boldly helped herself.

'Vary polite, certally, to Madame was it to send nothing at all for _hair_'
(so she pronounced 'her'); 'bote is all same thing.' And so she ran on in
her tipsy vein, which was loud and sarcastic, with a fierce laugh now and
then.

Afterwards I heard that they were afraid of Madame, who was given to cross
purposes, and violent in her cups. She had been noisy and quarrelsome
downstairs. She was under the delusion that I was to be conveyed away that
night to a remote and safe place, and she was to be handsomely compensated
for services and evidence to be afterwards given. She was not to be
trusted, however, with the truth. That was to be known but to three people
on earth.

I never knew, but I believe that the spiced claret which Madame drank was
drugged. She was a person who could, I have been told. Drink a great deal
without exhibiting any change from it but an inflamed colour and furious
temper. I can only state for certain what I saw, and that was, that shortly
after she had finished the claret she laid down upon my bed, and, I now
know, fell asleep. I then thought she was _feigning_ sleep only, and that
she was really watching me.

About an hour after this I suddenly heard a little _clink_ in the
yard beneath. I peeped out, but saw nothing. The sound was repeated,
however--sometimes more frequently, sometimes at long intervals. At last,
in the deep shadow next the farther wall, I thought I could discover a
figure, sometimes erect, sometimes stooping and bowing toward the earth. I
could see this figure only in the rudest outline mingling with the dark.

Like a thunderbolt it smote my brain. 'They are making my grave!'

After the first dreadful stun I grew quite wild, and ran up and down the
room wringing my hands and gasping prayers to heaven. Then a calm stole
over me--such a dreadful calm as I could fancy glide over one who floated
in a boat under the shadow of the 'Traitor's Gate,' leaving life and hope
and trouble behind.

Shortly after there came a very low tap at my door; then another, like a
tiny post-knock. I could never understand why it was I made no answer. Had
I done so, and thus shown that I was awake, it might have sealed my fate.
I was standing in the middle of the floor staring at the door, which I
expected to see open, and admit I knew not what troop of spectres.

CHAPTER LXIV