The Midnight Queen [22]
- he spoke English
with too perfect an accent to be that; and then he knew him, Sir
Norman, as if he had been his brother. In short, there was no
use driving himself insane trying to read so unreadable a riddle;
and inwardly consigning the mysterious count to Old Nick, he
swallowed another glass of sack, and quit thinking about him.
So absorbed had Sir Norman been in his own mournful musings, that
he paid no attention whatever to those around him, and had nearly
forgotten their very presence, when one of them, with aloud cry,
sprang to his feet, and then fell writhing to the floor. The
others, in dismay, gathered abut him, but the ne=t instant fell
back with a cry of, "He has the plague!" At that dreaded
announcement, half of them scampered off incontinently; and the
other half with the landlord at their head, lifted the sufferer
whose groans and cries were heart-rendering, and carried him out
of the house. Sir Norman, rather dismayed himself, had risen to
his feet, fully aroused from his reverie, and found himself and
another individual sole possessors of the premises. His
companion he could not very well make out; for he was sitting, or
rather crouching, in a remote and shadowy corner, where nothing
was clearly visible but the glare of a pair of fiery eyes. There
was a great redundancy of hair, too, about his head and face,
indeed considerable more about the latter than there seemed any
real necessity for, and even with the imperfect glimpse he caught
of him the young man set him down in his own mind as about as
hard-looking a customer as he had ever seen. The fiery eyes were
glaring upon him like those of a tiger, through a jungle of bushy
hair, but their owner spoke never a word, though the other stared
back with compound interest. There they sat, beaming upon each
other - one fiercely, the other curiously, until the
re-appearance of the landlord with a very lugubrious and
woebegone countenance. It struck Sir Norman that it was about
time to start for the ruin; and, with an eye to business, he
turned to cross-examine mine host a trifle.
"What have they done with that man?" he asked by way of preface.
"Sent him to the pest-house," replied the landlord, resting his
elbows on the counter and his chin in his hands, and staring
dismally at the opposite wall. "Ah! Lord 'a' mercy on us I
these be dreadful times!"
"Dreadful enough!" said Sir Norman, sighing deeply, as he thought
of his beautiful Leoline, a victim of the merciless pestilence.
"Have there been many deaths here of the distemper?"
"Twenty-five to-day!" groaned the man. "Lord! what will become of
us?"
"You seem rather disheartened," said Sir Norman, pouring out a
glass of wine and handing it to him. Just drink this, and don't
borrow trouble. They say sack is a sure specific against the
plague."
Mine host drained the bumper, and wiped his mouth, with another
hollow groan.
"If I thought that, sir, I'd not be sober from one week's end to
t'other; but I know well enough I will be in a plague-pit in less
than a week. O Lord! have mercy on us!"
"Amen!" said Sir Norman, impatiently. "If fear has not taken
away your wits, my good sir, will you tell me what old ruin that
is I saw a little above here as I rode up?"
The man started from his trance of terror, and glanced, first at
the fiery eyes in the corner, and then at Sir Norman, in evident
trepidation of the question.
"That ruin, sir? You must be a stranger in this place, surely,
or you would not need to ask that question."
"Well, suppose I am a stranger? What then?"
"Nothing, sir; only I thought everybody knew everything about
that ruin."
"But I do not, you see? So fill your glass again, and while you
are drinking it, just tell me what that everything comprises."
Again the landlord glanced fearfully st the fiery eyes in the
corner, and again hesitated.
with too perfect an accent to be that; and then he knew him, Sir
Norman, as if he had been his brother. In short, there was no
use driving himself insane trying to read so unreadable a riddle;
and inwardly consigning the mysterious count to Old Nick, he
swallowed another glass of sack, and quit thinking about him.
So absorbed had Sir Norman been in his own mournful musings, that
he paid no attention whatever to those around him, and had nearly
forgotten their very presence, when one of them, with aloud cry,
sprang to his feet, and then fell writhing to the floor. The
others, in dismay, gathered abut him, but the ne=t instant fell
back with a cry of, "He has the plague!" At that dreaded
announcement, half of them scampered off incontinently; and the
other half with the landlord at their head, lifted the sufferer
whose groans and cries were heart-rendering, and carried him out
of the house. Sir Norman, rather dismayed himself, had risen to
his feet, fully aroused from his reverie, and found himself and
another individual sole possessors of the premises. His
companion he could not very well make out; for he was sitting, or
rather crouching, in a remote and shadowy corner, where nothing
was clearly visible but the glare of a pair of fiery eyes. There
was a great redundancy of hair, too, about his head and face,
indeed considerable more about the latter than there seemed any
real necessity for, and even with the imperfect glimpse he caught
of him the young man set him down in his own mind as about as
hard-looking a customer as he had ever seen. The fiery eyes were
glaring upon him like those of a tiger, through a jungle of bushy
hair, but their owner spoke never a word, though the other stared
back with compound interest. There they sat, beaming upon each
other - one fiercely, the other curiously, until the
re-appearance of the landlord with a very lugubrious and
woebegone countenance. It struck Sir Norman that it was about
time to start for the ruin; and, with an eye to business, he
turned to cross-examine mine host a trifle.
"What have they done with that man?" he asked by way of preface.
"Sent him to the pest-house," replied the landlord, resting his
elbows on the counter and his chin in his hands, and staring
dismally at the opposite wall. "Ah! Lord 'a' mercy on us I
these be dreadful times!"
"Dreadful enough!" said Sir Norman, sighing deeply, as he thought
of his beautiful Leoline, a victim of the merciless pestilence.
"Have there been many deaths here of the distemper?"
"Twenty-five to-day!" groaned the man. "Lord! what will become of
us?"
"You seem rather disheartened," said Sir Norman, pouring out a
glass of wine and handing it to him. Just drink this, and don't
borrow trouble. They say sack is a sure specific against the
plague."
Mine host drained the bumper, and wiped his mouth, with another
hollow groan.
"If I thought that, sir, I'd not be sober from one week's end to
t'other; but I know well enough I will be in a plague-pit in less
than a week. O Lord! have mercy on us!"
"Amen!" said Sir Norman, impatiently. "If fear has not taken
away your wits, my good sir, will you tell me what old ruin that
is I saw a little above here as I rode up?"
The man started from his trance of terror, and glanced, first at
the fiery eyes in the corner, and then at Sir Norman, in evident
trepidation of the question.
"That ruin, sir? You must be a stranger in this place, surely,
or you would not need to ask that question."
"Well, suppose I am a stranger? What then?"
"Nothing, sir; only I thought everybody knew everything about
that ruin."
"But I do not, you see? So fill your glass again, and while you
are drinking it, just tell me what that everything comprises."
Again the landlord glanced fearfully st the fiery eyes in the
corner, and again hesitated.