The Midnight Queen [111]
and
behold the result!"
She pointed with a frantic gesture to the plague-pit, and wrung
her beautiful hands with the same moaning of anguish.
"Do I hear aright?" said Sir Norman, looking at her, and really
doubting if his ears had not deceived him. "Do you mean to say
that, in keeping your word and showing him your face, you have
caused his death?"
"I do. I had warned him of it before. I told him there were
sights too horrible to look on and live, but nothing would
convince him! Oh, why was the curse of life ever bestowed upon
such a hideous thing as I!"
Sir Norman gazed at her in a state of hopeless bewilderment. He
had thought, from the moment he saw her first, that there was
something wrong with her brain, to make her act in such a
mysterious, eccentric sort of way; but he had never positively
thought her so far gone as this. In his own mind, he set her
down, now, as being mad as a March hare, and accordingly answered
in that soothing tone people use to imbeciles
"My dear Madame Masque, pray do not excite yourself, or say such
dreadful things. I am sure you would not willfully cause the
death of any one, much less that of one who loved you as he did."
La Masque broke into a wild laugh, almost worse to hear than her
former despairing moans.
"The man thinks me mad! He will not believe, unless he sees and
knows for himself! Perhaps you, too, Sir Norman Kingsley," she
cried, changing into sudden fierceness, "would like to see the
face behind this mask? - would like to see what has slain your
friend, and share his fate?"
"Certainly," said Sir Norman. "I should like to see it; and I
think I may safely promise not to die from the effects. But
surely, madame, you deceive yourself; no face, however ugly -
even supposing you to possess such a one - could produce such
dismay as to cause death."
"You shall see."
She was looking down into the plague-pit, standing so close to
its cracking edge, that Sir Norman's blood ran cold, in the
momentary expectation to see her slip and fall headlong in. Her
voice was less fierce and less wild, but her hands were still
clasped tightly over her heart, as if to ease the unutterable
pain there. Suddenly, she looked up, and said, in an altered
tone:
"You have lost Leoline?"
"And found her again. She is in the power of one Count
L'Estrange."
"And if in his power, pray, how have you found her?"
"Because we are both to meet in her presence within this very
hour, and she is to decide between us,"
"Has Count L'Estrange promised you this?"
"He has."
"And you have no doubt what her decision will be?"
"Not the slightest."
"How came you to know she was carried off by this count?"
"He confessed it himself."
"Voluntarily?"
"No; I taxed him with it, and he owned to the deed; but he
voluntarily promised to take me to her and abide by her
decision."
"Extraordinary!" said La Masque, as if to herself. "Whimsical as
he is, I scarcely expected he would give her up no easily as
this."
"Then you know him, madame?" said Sir Norman, pointedly.
"There are few things I do not know, and rare are the disguises I
cannot penetrate. So you have discovered it, too?"
"No, madame, my eyes were not sharp enough, nor had I sufficient
cleverness, even, for that. It was Hubert, the Earl of
Rochester's page, who told me who he was."
"Ah, the page!" said La Masque, quickly. "You have then been
speaking to him? What do you think of his resemblance to
Leoline?"
"I think it is the most astonishing resemblance I ever saw. But
he is not the only one who bears Leoline's face."
"And the other is?"
The other is she whom you sent me to see in the old ruins.
Madame, I wish you would tell me the secret of this wonderful
likeness; for I am certain you know, and I am equally certain it
behold the result!"
She pointed with a frantic gesture to the plague-pit, and wrung
her beautiful hands with the same moaning of anguish.
"Do I hear aright?" said Sir Norman, looking at her, and really
doubting if his ears had not deceived him. "Do you mean to say
that, in keeping your word and showing him your face, you have
caused his death?"
"I do. I had warned him of it before. I told him there were
sights too horrible to look on and live, but nothing would
convince him! Oh, why was the curse of life ever bestowed upon
such a hideous thing as I!"
Sir Norman gazed at her in a state of hopeless bewilderment. He
had thought, from the moment he saw her first, that there was
something wrong with her brain, to make her act in such a
mysterious, eccentric sort of way; but he had never positively
thought her so far gone as this. In his own mind, he set her
down, now, as being mad as a March hare, and accordingly answered
in that soothing tone people use to imbeciles
"My dear Madame Masque, pray do not excite yourself, or say such
dreadful things. I am sure you would not willfully cause the
death of any one, much less that of one who loved you as he did."
La Masque broke into a wild laugh, almost worse to hear than her
former despairing moans.
"The man thinks me mad! He will not believe, unless he sees and
knows for himself! Perhaps you, too, Sir Norman Kingsley," she
cried, changing into sudden fierceness, "would like to see the
face behind this mask? - would like to see what has slain your
friend, and share his fate?"
"Certainly," said Sir Norman. "I should like to see it; and I
think I may safely promise not to die from the effects. But
surely, madame, you deceive yourself; no face, however ugly -
even supposing you to possess such a one - could produce such
dismay as to cause death."
"You shall see."
She was looking down into the plague-pit, standing so close to
its cracking edge, that Sir Norman's blood ran cold, in the
momentary expectation to see her slip and fall headlong in. Her
voice was less fierce and less wild, but her hands were still
clasped tightly over her heart, as if to ease the unutterable
pain there. Suddenly, she looked up, and said, in an altered
tone:
"You have lost Leoline?"
"And found her again. She is in the power of one Count
L'Estrange."
"And if in his power, pray, how have you found her?"
"Because we are both to meet in her presence within this very
hour, and she is to decide between us,"
"Has Count L'Estrange promised you this?"
"He has."
"And you have no doubt what her decision will be?"
"Not the slightest."
"How came you to know she was carried off by this count?"
"He confessed it himself."
"Voluntarily?"
"No; I taxed him with it, and he owned to the deed; but he
voluntarily promised to take me to her and abide by her
decision."
"Extraordinary!" said La Masque, as if to herself. "Whimsical as
he is, I scarcely expected he would give her up no easily as
this."
"Then you know him, madame?" said Sir Norman, pointedly.
"There are few things I do not know, and rare are the disguises I
cannot penetrate. So you have discovered it, too?"
"No, madame, my eyes were not sharp enough, nor had I sufficient
cleverness, even, for that. It was Hubert, the Earl of
Rochester's page, who told me who he was."
"Ah, the page!" said La Masque, quickly. "You have then been
speaking to him? What do you think of his resemblance to
Leoline?"
"I think it is the most astonishing resemblance I ever saw. But
he is not the only one who bears Leoline's face."
"And the other is?"
The other is she whom you sent me to see in the old ruins.
Madame, I wish you would tell me the secret of this wonderful
likeness; for I am certain you know, and I am equally certain it