While considering how he should next proceed, a faint gleam of light
became visible at the upper end of the vault. Changing his position, for
the pillars prevented him from seeing the source of the glimmer, he
discovered that it issued from a lamp borne by a female hand, who he
had no doubt was Mabel. On making this discovery, he sprang
forwards, and called to her, but instantly repented his rashness, for as
he uttered the cry the light was extinguished.
Wyat was now completely at a loss how to proceed. He was satisfied
that Mabel was in the vault; but in what way to guide himself to her
retreat he could not tell, and it was evident she herself would not assist
him. Persuaded, however, if he could but make himself known, he
should no longer be shunned, he entered one of the lateral passages,
and ever and anon, as he proceeded, repeated Mabel's name in a low,
soft tone. The stratagem was successful. Presently he heard a light
footstep approaching him, and a gentle voice inquired -
"Who calls me?"
"A friend," replied Wyat.
"Your name?" she demanded.
"You will not know me if I declare myself, Mabel," he replied, "but I am
called Sir Thomas Wyat.
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