When the morning broke and the sun shot his rays through the narrow
window, we carefully examined the floor and walls of our room, but we
found no opening through which the voice could have penetrated. In the
side of the room formed by the wall of the tower, the mortar had fallen
from between two stones, leaving one of them somewhat loose, but the
castle wall at that point was fully sixteen feet thick, and it was
impossible that the voice should have come through the layers of stone.
From my first acquaintance with Yolanda there had seemed to be a
supernatural element in her nature, an elfin quality in her face and
manner that could not be described. Max had often told me that she
impressed him in like manner. The voice in our stone-girt chamber,
coming as it did from nowhere, and resounding as it did everywhere,
intensified that feeling till it was almost a conviction, though I am
slow to accept supernatural explanations--a natural one usually exists.
Of course, there are rare instances of supernatural power vested in men
and women, and Yolanda's great, burning eyes caused me at times, almost
to believe that she was favored with it.
The voice that we had heard was unquestionably Yolanda's, but by what
strange power it was enabled to penetrate our rock-ribbed prison and
give tongues to the cold stones I could not guess, though I could not
stop trying. Here was another riddle set by this marvellous girl for my
solving. This riddle, however, helped to solve the first, and confirmed
my belief that Yolanda was Mary of Burgundy.
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