He now extinguished the torch, which, together with the boots, he put down on the floor, and then, lying flat down, he thrust his head over the opening and tried to see what was below. There was a faint light, the light of moonbeams, which streamed in here and fell upon the floor, just as in his own room. He reached down his hand, and could feel that here too there were stepping-stones. In fact, there were two rooms connected by this passage-way, and in all probability they were exactly similar. But who were in this room? The men had been taken to one side of the great hall, the women to the other. Were the women here? Were they by themselves? And was Katie here? Would it be possible for him to go down so as to try to communicate with any of them? It was certainly hazardous. A discovery would ruin all. It would be better to wait, at any rate to watch here for a while, and listen. As he watched he could see somewhat better, for his eyes grew more accustomed to the dim light. He could make out the stepping-stones, and the chimney floor, and the floor of the room for about one-third of the distance from the chimney. As he lay there and watched and listened, there came to his ears, through the deep stillness of night, the sound of regular breathing, as of sleepers, together with an occasional sigh, as of some one in a troubled dream. They were all asleep, then! Who? The Carlists, or the women attendants? or was it not rather his own friends--and--Katie? At this thought an uncontrollable desire seized him to venture down and see for himself. He might get near enough to see for himself. He could strike a match, take one look, and then, if mistaken, retreat. Dared he venture? He dared. He raised himself, and then was about to put one foot down so as to descend, but at that very moment, as he stood poised in that attitude, he heard a faint shuffling sound below. He stopped and looked down cautiously. There, across the moonbeams, he could see a figure moving; the very same figure that he had seen moving across the moonbeams in his own room--the same slender, slight, fragile figure, with the same floating, vaporous drapery. But now he did not feel one particle of wonder or superstitious awe. He understood it all. The woman who had visited him had fled back here, and was now about to return. What should he do? He must retreat. She was evidently coming in his direction. He would go back to his own room, and wait and watch and intercept her. As Harry hesitated the woman stopped also, and listened. Then she advanced again.