Chapter 11 THE CASTLE OF THE TERROR-1

Chapter 11 THE CASTLE OF THE TERROR

The big Finn had, I found, tied up his horses, and in the heavy old boat he rowed me down the swollen river which ran swift and turbulent around a sudden bend and then seemed to open out to a great width. In the starlight I could distinguish that it stretched gray and level to a distance, and that the opposite bank was fringed with pines.

"Where are we going?" I asked my guide in a low voice. But he only whispered:

"Hush! Excellency! Remain patient, and you shall see the young Englishwoman."

So I sat in the boat, while he allowed it to drift with the current, steering it with the great heavy oars. The river suddenly narrowed again, with high pines on either bank, a silent, lonesome reach, perhaps indeed one of the loneliest spots in all Europe.……