She went there first, finding her way with some little difficulty from the corridor where the gallery was, for the region was not the one to which she was most accustomed, though there was hardly a corner of the upper story where she had never been.
Reaching the terrace, she went out and called softly, but there was no answer, nor could she hear any sound.

The night was not cold now, but the breeze chilled her a little, and just then the melancholy cry of a screech owl pierced the air, and she shivered and went in again.
She would have gone to the Duchess Alvarez had she not been sure that the latter was below with the Queen, and even as it was, she would have taken refuge in the Duchess's apartments with the women, and she might have learned something of Dolores there.

But her touch reminded her that she was dressed in her sister's clothes, and that many questions might be asked her which it would be hard to answer.

And again, it grew quite clear to her that Dolores must be somewhere near Don John, perhaps waiting in some concealed corner until all should be quiet.

It was more than probable that he would get her out of the palace secretly during the night and send her to his adoptive mother at Villagarcia.