Across the wide courtyard of Machecoul they went. It also was filled
with the reflection of the red tide of light which ebbed and flowed,
waxing and waning above. Saving for that window the whole castle was
wrapped in gloom and silence, and if there were any awake within the
precincts they knew better than to spy upon the midnight doings of
their dread lord.
The little party passed up the great staircase of the keep and
presently halted before the inscribed wooden door by which Laurence
had entered the Temple of Evil.
As Gilles de Sille opened it for the maids to precede him, the skirt
of Maud Lindesay's robe, blown back by the draught of the chamber,
fluttered against the cheek of Laurence MacKim as he lay on his face
in the niche of the wall. At the light touch he came to himself, and
looked about with a strange and instant change in all the affections
and movements of his heart.
With the coming in of the maidens, fear seemed utterly to forsake him.
A clarity of purpose, an alertness of brain, a strength of heart
unknown before, took the place of the trembling bath of horror in
which he had swooned away.
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