He stood there wrapt in his thoughts, till he saw her turn from the frame, that she had tried to move in a dozen different ways, her fingers playing here and there with marvellous quickness about the corners and prominent bits of carving, as if she expected that any one might prove to be a secret spring. Again she tried another picture; darted to the group of statuary in the corner, and tried to lift it back, as if expecting that which she sought might be hidden beneath it; and again there was the movement, full of dejection and despair, as she stood facing him with the light full upon her eyes. She turned away, despondently; and then started upright, with her eyes flashing, and one hand raised in the involuntary movement of one who listens intently to some sound. Had she heard something, or was it fancy--a part of her dream? Paul Capel thought the latter, for, light as a fawn, he saw Katrine dart across the room to where the candle stood. The next moment they were in total darkness. CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. WHAT THE SOUND WAS. A faint rustle was plainly heard, as Capel drew aside the curtain. Then the sound ceased, but he felt that as he had taken a step to the left, Katrine must be exactly opposite to him. In another moment she would come forward and touch him, for he could not move from his position. If he stood aside she would pass him and fasten him in the room. He listened in the intense darkness, and could just detect the short, hurried breathing of one who was excited by dread. But as he listened in the darkness, clear now of the heavy curtain, he heard another sound--a peculiar scraping sound, that seemed to come from outside the window. It was that which had alarmed Katrine, and made her extinguish the light. The noise ceased. Then it was repeated, and directly after, sounding muffled by the heavy curtain, the window rattled a little in its frame, as if shaken or pressed upon by some one outside. The panting grew louder, there was a warm breath upon Capel's cheek, and the next moment he held Katrine in his arms. She uttered a low cry of fear, and struggled to escape. "Hush!" he whispered. "You have nothing to fear. Are you awake?" There was no answer; only a vigorous thrust from the hands placed upon his chest, and he felt that she was trying to open the door, trembling violently the while. "Katrine," he whispered, "why do you not trust me? Wake up. There is nothing to fear." He tried to clasp her in his arms again, but with a quick movement she eluded him, and as he caught at her again, it seemed as if the great curtain had been thrust into his arms, for he grasped that, and as he flung it away, the door struck him in the face, and then closed, he heard it locked, and the key withdrawn. Then he stood listening, for the window rattled again, and he wondered that the noise he had made in his slight struggle with Katrine had not been heard by whoever was on the sill.