The Midnight Queen [110]
the second time within the last twelve
hours he had stood there; and, on the previous occasion, he who
now lay in it, had stood by his side. He looked down, sickened
and horror-struck. Perhaps, before another morning, he, too,
might be there; and, feeling his blood run cold at the thought,
he was turning away, when some one came rapidly up, and sank down
with a moaning gasping cry on its very edge. That shape - tall
and slender, and graceful - he well knew; and, leaning over her,
ho laid his hand on her shoulder, and exclaimed:
"La Masque!"
CHAPTER, XXI.
WHAT WAS BEHIND TWO MASK.
The cowering form rose up; but, seeing who it was, sank down
again, with its face groveling in the dust, and with another
prolonged, moaning cry.
"Madame Masque!" he said, wonderingly; "what is this?"
He bent to raise her; but, with a sort of scream she held out her
arms to keep him back.
"No, no, no I Touch me not! Hate me - kill me! I have murdered
your friend!"
Sir Norman recoiled as if from a deadly tent.
"Murdered him! Madame, in Heaven's name, what have you said?"
"Oh, I have not stabbed him, or poisoned him, or shot him; but I
am his murderer, nevertheless!" she wailed, writhing in a sort of
gnawing inward torture.
"Madame, I do not understand you at all! Surely you are raving
when you talk like this."
Still moaning on the edge of the plague-pit, she half rose up,
with both hands clasped tightly over her heart, as if she would
have held back from all human ken the anguish that was destroying
her
"NO - no! I am not mad - pray Heaven I were! Oh, that they had
strangled me in the first hour of my birth, as they would a
viper, rather than I should have lived through all this life of
misery and guilt, to end it by this last, worst crime of all!"
Sir Norman stood and looked at her still with a dazed expression.
He knew well enough whose murderer she called herself; but why
she did so, or how she could possibly bring about his death, was
a mystery altogether too deep for him to solve.
"Madame, compose yourself, I beseech you, and tell me what you
mean. It is to my friend, Ormiston, you allude - is it not?"
"Yes - yes! surely you need not ask."
"I know that he is dead, and buried in this horrible place; but
why you should accuse yourself of murdering him, I confess I do
not know."
"Then you shall!" she cried, passionately. "And you will wonder
at it no longer! You are the last one to whom the revelation can
ever be made on earth; and, now that my hours are numbered, it
matters little whether it is told or not! Was it not you who
first found him dead?"
"It was I - yes. And how he came to his end, I have been
puzzling myself in vain to discover ever since."
She rose up, drew herself to her full majestic height, and looked
at him with a terrible glance
"Shall I tell you?"
"You have had no hand in it," he answered, with a cold chill at
the tone and look, "for he loved you!"
"I have had a hand in it - I alone have been the cause of it.
But for me he would be living still!"
"Madame," exclaimed Sir Norman, in horror.
"You need not look as if you thought me mad, for I tell you it is
Heaven's truth! You say right - he loved me; but for that love
he would be living now!"
"You speak in riddles which I cannot read. How could that love
have caused his death, since his dearest wishes were to be
granted to-night?"
"He told you that, did he?"
"He did. He told me you were to remove your mask; and if, on
seeing you, he still loved you, you were to be his wife."
"Then woe to him for ever having extorted such a promise from me!
Oh, I warned him again, and again, and again. I told him how it
would be - I begged him to desist; but no, he was blind, he was
mad; he would rush on his own doom! I fulfilled my promise,
hours he had stood there; and, on the previous occasion, he who
now lay in it, had stood by his side. He looked down, sickened
and horror-struck. Perhaps, before another morning, he, too,
might be there; and, feeling his blood run cold at the thought,
he was turning away, when some one came rapidly up, and sank down
with a moaning gasping cry on its very edge. That shape - tall
and slender, and graceful - he well knew; and, leaning over her,
ho laid his hand on her shoulder, and exclaimed:
"La Masque!"
CHAPTER, XXI.
WHAT WAS BEHIND TWO MASK.
The cowering form rose up; but, seeing who it was, sank down
again, with its face groveling in the dust, and with another
prolonged, moaning cry.
"Madame Masque!" he said, wonderingly; "what is this?"
He bent to raise her; but, with a sort of scream she held out her
arms to keep him back.
"No, no, no I Touch me not! Hate me - kill me! I have murdered
your friend!"
Sir Norman recoiled as if from a deadly tent.
"Murdered him! Madame, in Heaven's name, what have you said?"
"Oh, I have not stabbed him, or poisoned him, or shot him; but I
am his murderer, nevertheless!" she wailed, writhing in a sort of
gnawing inward torture.
"Madame, I do not understand you at all! Surely you are raving
when you talk like this."
Still moaning on the edge of the plague-pit, she half rose up,
with both hands clasped tightly over her heart, as if she would
have held back from all human ken the anguish that was destroying
her
"NO - no! I am not mad - pray Heaven I were! Oh, that they had
strangled me in the first hour of my birth, as they would a
viper, rather than I should have lived through all this life of
misery and guilt, to end it by this last, worst crime of all!"
Sir Norman stood and looked at her still with a dazed expression.
He knew well enough whose murderer she called herself; but why
she did so, or how she could possibly bring about his death, was
a mystery altogether too deep for him to solve.
"Madame, compose yourself, I beseech you, and tell me what you
mean. It is to my friend, Ormiston, you allude - is it not?"
"Yes - yes! surely you need not ask."
"I know that he is dead, and buried in this horrible place; but
why you should accuse yourself of murdering him, I confess I do
not know."
"Then you shall!" she cried, passionately. "And you will wonder
at it no longer! You are the last one to whom the revelation can
ever be made on earth; and, now that my hours are numbered, it
matters little whether it is told or not! Was it not you who
first found him dead?"
"It was I - yes. And how he came to his end, I have been
puzzling myself in vain to discover ever since."
She rose up, drew herself to her full majestic height, and looked
at him with a terrible glance
"Shall I tell you?"
"You have had no hand in it," he answered, with a cold chill at
the tone and look, "for he loved you!"
"I have had a hand in it - I alone have been the cause of it.
But for me he would be living still!"
"Madame," exclaimed Sir Norman, in horror.
"You need not look as if you thought me mad, for I tell you it is
Heaven's truth! You say right - he loved me; but for that love
he would be living now!"
"You speak in riddles which I cannot read. How could that love
have caused his death, since his dearest wishes were to be
granted to-night?"
"He told you that, did he?"
"He did. He told me you were to remove your mask; and if, on
seeing you, he still loved you, you were to be his wife."
"Then woe to him for ever having extorted such a promise from me!
Oh, I warned him again, and again, and again. I told him how it
would be - I begged him to desist; but no, he was blind, he was
mad; he would rush on his own doom! I fulfilled my promise,