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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Gordon Craig Soldier of Fortune"

Nothing else
greatly mattered, for nothing could again efface from my memory the
woman he had called wife. Right or wrong, I knew she held me captive;
even there, groping blindly in that darkness, every nerve strained to
its utmost, my thought was with her, and her face arose before my
imagination. Unexpectedly, unexplainably love had come into my
life--the very love I had laughed at in others had made me captive.
And I was glad of it, reckless still as to what it might portend.
I counted twelve rungs going down, and then felt stone flags beneath my
feet, although the walls on either side, as I explored them with my
hands, were still of closely matched wood. The passage, now high
enough to permit of my standing erect, led toward the rear of the
house, presenting no obstacle other than darkness, until I came up
suddenly against a heavy wooden door completely barring further
progress. As near as I could figure I must be already directly beneath
the kitchen, and close in against the south wall. No sound reached me,
however, from above, nor could I, with ear against the slight crack,
distinguish any movement beyond the barrier. Cautious fingering
revealed closely matched hard wood, studded thickly with nail heads,
but no keyhole or latch.


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