log-built post-house
just beyond a small town in a hollow that faced the sea, and I alighted
to watch the steaming horses being replaced by a trio of fresh ones. The
place was Dadendal, I was informed, and the proprietor of the place,
when I entered and tossed off a liqueur-glass of cognac, pointed out to
me a row of granite buildings fallen much to decay as the ancient
convent.

Then, resuming our journey, the short day quickly drew to a close, the
sun sank yellow and watery over the towering pines through which we went
mile after mile, a dense, interminable forest wherein the wolves lurked
in winter, often rendering the road dangerous.

The temperature fell, and it froze again. Through the window in front I
could see the big Finn driver throwing his arms across his shoulders to
promote circulation, in the same manner as does the London "cabby."

When night drew on we changed horses again at a small, dirty post-house
in the forest, at the edge of a lake, and then pushed forward again,
although it was already long past the hour at which he had said we
should arrive.

Time passed slowly in the darkness, for we had no light, and the horses
seemed to find their way by instinct. The rolling of the lumbering old
vehicle after six hours had rendered me sleepy, I think, for I recollect
closing my eyes and conjuring up that strange scene on board the
_Lola_.

Indeed, I suppose I must have slept, for I was awakened by a light
shining into my face and the driver shaking me by the shoulder. When I
roused myself and, naturally, inquired the reason, he placed his finger
mysteriously upon my lips, saying:

"Hush, your high nobility, hush! Come with me. But make no noise. If we
are discovered, it means death for us--death. Come, give me your hand.
Slowly. Tread softly. See, here is the boat. I will get in first. We
shall not be heard upon the water. So."

And the fellow led me, half-dazed, down to the bank of a broad, dark
river which I could just distinguish--he led me to an unknown bourne.

CHAPTER XI

THE CASTLE OF THE TERROR

The big Finn had, I found, tied up his horses, and in the heavy old boat
he rowed me down the swollen river which ran swift and turbulent around
a sudden bend and then seemed to open out to a great width. In the
starlight I could distinguish that it stretched gray and level to a
distance, and that the opposite bank was fringed with pines.

"Where are we going?" I asked my guide in a low