Behind the castle the hill rose abruptly; the northeastern tower,
indeed, was in contact with the rock, and communicated with the interior
of it. For in the rock was a series of chambers, known only to Watho and
the one servant whom she trusted, called Falca. Some former owner had
constructed these chambers after the tomb of an Egyptian king, and
probably with the same design, for in the centre of one of them stood
what could only be a sarcophagus, but that and others were walled off.
The sides and roofs of them were carved in low relief, and curiously
painted. Here the witch lodged the blind lady, whose name was Vesper.
Her eyes were black, with long black lashes; her skin had a look of
darkened silver, but was of purest tint and grain; her hair was black
and fine and straight-flowing; her features were exquisitely formed, and
if less beautiful, yet more lovely from sadness; she always looked as if
she wanted to lie down and not rise again. She did not know she was
lodged in a tomb, though now and then she wondered she never touched a
window. There were many couches, covered with richest silk, and soft as
her own cheek, for her to lie upon; and the carpets were so thick she
might have cast herself down anywhere--as befitted a tomb. The place was
dry and warm, and cunningly pierced for air, so that it was always
fresh, and lacked only sunlight. There the witch fed her upon milk, and
wine dark as a carbuncle, and pomegranates, and purple grapes, and birds
that dwell in marshy places; and she played to her mournful tunes, and
caused wailful violins to attend her, and told her sad tales, thus
holding her ever in an atmosphere of sweet sorrow.