It was not long before my eyes were unbandaged and I was permitted to look about. The place seemed to have been dug out of solid rock; water dripped from one side of the roof; there was no floor but the natural rock. In one corner, supported on four stones, lay an old door. I looked a moment at this, and then turned to the faces of three men who stood about me. They were each eyeing me keenly. One of the faces I felt sure I had seen--but where? The single lantern carried by the jailer threw only a faint and imperfect light on the faces and on everything about me; still I suddenly became certain that one of the two men who stood before me was the man who had sprung into the room of our house in pursuit of Duncan Hale. He looked at me very critically. Then on a signal from him the jailer lifted the lantern and held it close, so that a better light fell upon my face. The next moment all the men suddenly withdrew. I heard the heavy timbers being thrown against the closed door; a few words that sounded like oaths fell on my ears, and then there was the tramp, tramp, of the men's feet as they receded from the place. This sound gradually shaded into silence, and I was left alone, the first prisoner of the great war. For a time,--for a great, long time,--I stood immovable, where the men had left me, in the centre of my dungeon, for a dungeon it really seemed. What was to become of me? Had they put me here to starve? I was hungry up to the point of faintness, for since early morning I had been riding or walking almost continuously, and had eaten food but once. The feeling of exhaustion growing upon me, I moved toward the place where I remembered having seen the door resting on the four stones. I found this and sat down. All was dark about me. There was no sound but the occasional drip, drip of the water from the rock above. The damp, cold air of the place chilled me to the bone. It was certainly a strange place into which I had been forced. Had it been a prison, I would have been content. But the name 'prison' was much too dignified for my place of confinement. I had visited a prison once with my father; I was familiar with the quarters in which animals were housed; but I had never seen anything like this. From my surroundings my mind finally wandered to other things. I thought of Duncan Hale. Had he really escaped? If so, my case might not yet be utterly hopeless, for I knew that Duncan, having free access to Lord Percy, would at once make known my capture. But had Duncan reached the British lines? Might he not have been recaptured? Then there were my mother and my helpless sisters. Would they know of my being carried off? It was difficult to think they would, unless Duncan had galloped directly home to tell them; and this I was quite sure he would not risk doing. My mother was probably anxiously waiting for my coming every moment. As matters looked at present, she must wait long.