Behind the castle the hill rose abruptly; the north-eastern 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.