The Midnight Queen [21]
was the only
reply as he galloped away.
CHAPTER V.
THE DWARF AND THE RUIN.
The by-path down which Sir Norman rode, led to an inn, "The
Golden Crown," about a quarter of a mile from the ruin. Not
wishing to take his horse, lest it should lead to discovery, he
proposed leaving it here till his return; and, with this
intention, and the strong desire for a glass of wine - for the
heat and his ride made him extremely thirsty - he dismounted at
the door, and consigning the animal to the care of a hostler, he
entered the bar-room. It was not the most inviting place in the
world, this same bar-room - being illy-lighted, dim with
tobacco-smoke, and pervaded by a strong spirituous essence of
stronger drinks than malt or cold water. A number of men were
loitering about, smoking, drinking, and discussing the
all-absorbing topic of the plague, and the fires that might be
kindled. There was a moment's pause, as Sir Norman entered, took
a seat, and called for a glass of sack, and then the conversation
went on as before. The landlord hastened to supply his wants by
placing a glass and a bottle of wine before him, and Sir Norman
fell to helping himself, and to ruminating deeply on the events
of the night. Rather melancholy these ruminations were, though
to do the young gentleman justice, sentimental melancholy was not
at all in his line; but then you will please to recollect he was
in love, and when people come to that state, they are no longer
to be held responsible either for their thoughts or actions. It
is true his attack had been a rapid one, but it was no less
severe for that; and if any evil-minded critic is disposed to
sneer at the suddenness of his disorder, I have only to say, that
I know from observation, not to speak of experience, that love at
first sight is a lamentable fact, and no myth.
Love is not a plant that requires time to flourish, but is quite
capable of springing up like the gourd of Jonah full grown in a
moment. Our young friend, Sir Norman, had not been aware of the
existence of the object of his affections for a much longer space
than two hours and a half, yet he had already got to such a
pitch, that if he did not speedily find her, he felt he would do
something so desperate as to shake society to its utmost
foundations. The very mystery of the affair spurred him on, and
the romantic way in which she had been found, saved, and
disappeared, threw such a halo of interest round her, that he was
inclined to think sometimes she was nothing but a shining vision
from another world. Those dark, splendid eyes; that lovely
marblelike face; those wavy ebon tresses; that exquisitely
exquisite figure; yes, he felt they were all a great deal too
perfect for this imperfect and wicked world. Six Norman was in a
very bad way, beyond doubt, but no worse than millions of young
men before and after him; and he heaved a great many profound
sighs, and drank a great many glasses of sack, and came to the
sorrowful conclusion that Dame Fortune was a malicious jade,
inclined to poke fun at his best affections, and make a
shuttlecock of his heart for the rest of his life. He thought,
too, of Count L'Estrange; and the longer he thought, the more he
became convinced that he knew him well, and had met him often.
But where? He racked his brain until, between love, Leoline, and
the count, he got that delicate organ into such a maze of
bewilderment and distraction, that he felt he would be a case of
congestion, shortly, if he did not give it up. That the count's
voice was not the only thing about him assumed, he was positive;
and he mentally called over the muster-roll of his past friends,
who spent half their time at Whitehall, and the other half going
through the streets, making love to the honest citizens' pretty
wives and daughters; but none of them answered to Count
L'Estrange. He could scarcely be a foreigner
reply as he galloped away.
CHAPTER V.
THE DWARF AND THE RUIN.
The by-path down which Sir Norman rode, led to an inn, "The
Golden Crown," about a quarter of a mile from the ruin. Not
wishing to take his horse, lest it should lead to discovery, he
proposed leaving it here till his return; and, with this
intention, and the strong desire for a glass of wine - for the
heat and his ride made him extremely thirsty - he dismounted at
the door, and consigning the animal to the care of a hostler, he
entered the bar-room. It was not the most inviting place in the
world, this same bar-room - being illy-lighted, dim with
tobacco-smoke, and pervaded by a strong spirituous essence of
stronger drinks than malt or cold water. A number of men were
loitering about, smoking, drinking, and discussing the
all-absorbing topic of the plague, and the fires that might be
kindled. There was a moment's pause, as Sir Norman entered, took
a seat, and called for a glass of sack, and then the conversation
went on as before. The landlord hastened to supply his wants by
placing a glass and a bottle of wine before him, and Sir Norman
fell to helping himself, and to ruminating deeply on the events
of the night. Rather melancholy these ruminations were, though
to do the young gentleman justice, sentimental melancholy was not
at all in his line; but then you will please to recollect he was
in love, and when people come to that state, they are no longer
to be held responsible either for their thoughts or actions. It
is true his attack had been a rapid one, but it was no less
severe for that; and if any evil-minded critic is disposed to
sneer at the suddenness of his disorder, I have only to say, that
I know from observation, not to speak of experience, that love at
first sight is a lamentable fact, and no myth.
Love is not a plant that requires time to flourish, but is quite
capable of springing up like the gourd of Jonah full grown in a
moment. Our young friend, Sir Norman, had not been aware of the
existence of the object of his affections for a much longer space
than two hours and a half, yet he had already got to such a
pitch, that if he did not speedily find her, he felt he would do
something so desperate as to shake society to its utmost
foundations. The very mystery of the affair spurred him on, and
the romantic way in which she had been found, saved, and
disappeared, threw such a halo of interest round her, that he was
inclined to think sometimes she was nothing but a shining vision
from another world. Those dark, splendid eyes; that lovely
marblelike face; those wavy ebon tresses; that exquisitely
exquisite figure; yes, he felt they were all a great deal too
perfect for this imperfect and wicked world. Six Norman was in a
very bad way, beyond doubt, but no worse than millions of young
men before and after him; and he heaved a great many profound
sighs, and drank a great many glasses of sack, and came to the
sorrowful conclusion that Dame Fortune was a malicious jade,
inclined to poke fun at his best affections, and make a
shuttlecock of his heart for the rest of his life. He thought,
too, of Count L'Estrange; and the longer he thought, the more he
became convinced that he knew him well, and had met him often.
But where? He racked his brain until, between love, Leoline, and
the count, he got that delicate organ into such a maze of
bewilderment and distraction, that he felt he would be a case of
congestion, shortly, if he did not give it up. That the count's
voice was not the only thing about him assumed, he was positive;
and he mentally called over the muster-roll of his past friends,
who spent half their time at Whitehall, and the other half going
through the streets, making love to the honest citizens' pretty
wives and daughters; but none of them answered to Count
L'Estrange. He could scarcely be a foreigner