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The Midnight Queen [20]

By Root 1987 0
friend be, for I was not aware that she had any?"



"So I judged," said Sir Norman, rather bitterly, or she would not

have been left to die alone of the plague. She was brought to my

house, sir, and I am the friend who would have stood by her to

the last!"



Sir Norman sat up very straight and haughty on his horse; and had

it been daylight, he would have seen a slight derisive smile pass

over the lips of his companion.



"I have always heard that Sir Norman Kingsley was a chivalrous

knight," he said; "but I scarcely dreamed his gallantry would

have carried him go far as to brave death by the pestilence for

the sake of an unknown lady - however beautiful. I wonder you,

did not carry her to the pest-house."



"No doubt! Those who could desert her at such a time would

probably be capable of that or any other baseness!"



"My good friend," said the stranger, calmly, "your insinuation is

not over-courteous, but I can forgive it, more for the sake of

what you've done for her to-night than for myself."



Sir Norman's lip curled.



"I'm obliged to you! And now, sir, as you have seen fit to

question me in this free and easy manner, will you pardon me if I

take the liberty of returning the compliment, and ask you a few

in return?"



"Certainly; pray proceed, Sir Norman," said the stranger,

blandly; "you are at liberty to ask as many questions as you

please - so am I to answer them."



"I answered all yours unhesitatingly, and you owe it to me to do

the same," said Sir Norman, somewhat haughtily. "In the first

place, you have an advantage of me which I neither understand,

nor relish; so, to place us on equal terms, will you have the

goodness to tell me your name?"



"Most assuredly! My name," said the stranger, with glib

airiness, "is Count L'Estrange."



"A name unknown to me," said Sir Norman, with a piercing look,

"and equally unknown, I believe, at Whitehall. There is a Lord

L'Estrange in London; or you and he are certainly not one and the

same."



"My friend does not believe me," said the count, almost gayly -

"a circumstance I regret, but cannot help. Is there anything

else Sir Norman wishes to know?"



"If you do not answer my questions truthfully, there to little

use in my asking them," said Sir Norman, bluntly. "Do you mean

to say you are a foreigner?"



"Sir Norman Kingsley is at perfect liberty to answer that

question as he pleases," replied the stranger, with most

provoking indifference.



Sir Norman's eye flashed, and his hand fell on his sword; but,

reflecting that the count might find it inconvenient to answer

any more questions if he ran him through, he restrained himself

and went on.



"Sir, you are impertinent, but that is of no consequence, just

now. Who was that lady - what was her name?"



"Leoline."



Was she your wife?"



The stranger paused for a moment, as if reflecting whether she

was or not, and then said, meditatively



"No - I don't know as she was. On the whole, I am pretty sure

she was not."



Sir Norman felt as if a ton weight had been suddenly hoisted from

the region of his heart.



"Was she anybody else's wife?"



"I think not. I'm inclined to think that, except myself, she did

not know another man in London."



"Then why was she dressed as a bride?" inquired Sir Norman,

rather mystified.



"Was she? My poor Leoline!" said the stranger, sadly. "Because

-" he hesitated, "because - in short, Sir Norman," said the

stranger, decidedly, "I decline answering any more questions!"



"I shall find out, for all that," said Sir Norman, "and here I

shall bid you good-night, for this by-path leads to my

destination."



"Good-night," said the stranger, "and be careful, Sir

Norman-remember, the plague is abroad."



"And so are highwaymen!" called Sir Norman after him, a little

maliciously; but a careless laugh from the stranger
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