Chapter 11
THE CASTLE OF THE TERRORThe 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 voice. But he
only whispered:
"Hush! Excellency! Remain patient, and you shall see the young
Englishwoman."
So I sat in the boat, while he allowed it to drift with the
current, steering it with the great heavy oars. The river suddenly
narrowed again, with high pines on either bank, a silent, lonesome
reach, perhaps indeed one of the loneliest spots in all Euro
