Online Book Reader

Home Category

The Midnight Queen [24]

By Root 1987 0
was gone, the young man kept his

eyes blankly fixed on the door, with a vague impression that he

was suffering from an attack of nightmare; for it seemed

impossible that anything so preposterously ugly as that dwarf

could exist out of one. A deep groan from the landlord, however,

convinced him that it was no disagreeable midnight vision, but a

brawny reality; and turning to that individual, he found him

gasping, in the last degree of terror, behind the counter.



"Now, who in the name of all the demons oat of Hades may that

ugly abortion be?" inquired Sir Norman.



"O Lord I be merciful! sir, it's Caliban; and the only wonder is,

he did not leave you a bleeding corpse at his feet!"



"I should like to see him try it. Perhaps he would have found

that is a game two can play at! Where does he come from and who

is he!"



The landlord leaned over the counter, and placed a very pale and

startled face close to Sir Norman's.



"That's just what I wanted to tell you, sir, but I was afraid to

speak before him. I think he lives up in that same old ruin you

were inquiring about - at least, he is often seen hanging around

there; but people are too much afraid of him to ask him any

questions. Ah, sir, it's a strange place, that ruin, and there

be strange stories afloat about it," said the man, with a

portentious shake of the head.



"What are they?" inquired Sir Norman. "I should particularly

like to know."



"Well, sir, for one thing, some folks say it is haunted, on

account of the queer lights and noises abort it, sometimes; but,

again, there be other folks, sir, that say the ghosts are alive,

and that he" - nodding toward the door - "is a sort of ringleader

among them."



"And who are they that out up such cantrips in the old place,

pray?"



"Lord only knows, sir. I'm sure I don't. I never go near it

myself; but there are others who have, and some of them tell of

the most beautiful lady, all in white, with long, black hair, who

walks on the battlements moonlight nights."



"A beautiful lady, all in white, with long, black hair! Why,

that description applies to Leoline exactly."



And Sir Norman gave a violent start, and arose to proceed to the

place directly.



"Don't you go near it, sir!" said the host, warningly. "Others

have gone, as he told you, and never come back; for these be

dreadful times, and men do as they please. Between the plague

and their wickedness, the Lord only known what will become of

us!"



"If I should return here for my horse in an hour or two, I

suppose I can get him?" sad Sir Norman, as he turned toward the

door.



"It's likely you can, sir, if I'm not dead by that time," said

the landlord, as he sank down again, groaning dismally, with his

chin between his hands.



The night was now profoundly dark; but Sir Norman knew the road

and ruin well, and, drawing his sword, walked resolutely on. The

distance between it and the ruin was trifling, and in less than

ten minutes it loomed up before him, a mass of deeper black in

the blackness. No white vision floated on the broken battlements

this night, as Sir Norman looked wistfully up at them; but

neither was there any ungainly dwarf, with two-edged sword,

guarding the ruined entrance; and Sir Norman passed unmolested

in. He sought the spiral staircase which La Masque had spoken

of, and, passing carefully from one ancient chamber to another,

stumbling over piles of rubbish and stones as he went, he reached

it at last. Descending gingerly its tortuous steepness, he found

himself in the mouldering vaults, and, as he trod them, his ear

was greeted by the sound of faint and far-off music. Proceeding

farther, he heard distinctly, mingled with it, a murmur of voices

and laughter, and, through the chinks in the broken flags, he

perceived a few faint rays of light. Remembering the directions

of La Masque, and feeling intensely
Return Main Page Previous Page Next Page

®Online Book Reader