The Midnight Queen [5]
and becoming conscious of that fact
Sir Norman made her a low and courtly bow. She returned it by a
slight bend of the head, and turning toward his companion, spoke
"You here, again, Mr. Ormiston! To what am I indebted for the
honor of two visits in two days?"
Her voice, Sir Norman thought, was the sweetest he had ever
heard, musical as a chime of silver bells, soft as the tones of
an aeolian harp through which the west wind plays.
"Madam, I am aware my visits are undesired," said Ormiston, with
a flushing cheek and, slightly tremulous voice; "but I have
merely come with my friend, Sir Norman Kingsley, who wishes to
know what the future has in store for him."
Thus invoked, Sir Norman Kingsley stepped forward with another
low bow to the masked lady.
"Yes, madam, I have long heard that those fair fingers can
withdraw the curtain of the future, and I have come to see what
Dame Destiny is going to do for me."
"Sir Norman Kingsley is welcome," said the sweet voice, "and
shall see what he desires. There is but one condition, that he
will keep perfectly silent; for if he speaks, the scene he
beholds will vanish. Come forward!"
Sir Norman compressed his lips as closely am if they were forever
hermetically sealed, and came forward accordingly. Leaning over
the edge of the ebony caldron, he found that it contained nothing
more dreadful than water, for he labored under a vague and
unpleasant idea that, like the witches' caldron in Macbeth, it
might be filled with serpents' blood and children's' brains. La
Masque opened her golden casket, and took from it a portion of
red powder, with which it was filled. Casting it into the
caldron, she murmured an invocation in Sanscrit, or Coptic, or
some other unknown tongue, and slowly there arose a dense cloud
of dark-red smoke, that nearly filled the room. Had Sir Norman
ever read the story of Aladdin, he would probably have thought of
it then; but the young courtier did not greatly affect literature
of any kind, and thought of nothing now but of seeing something
when the smoke cleared away. It was rather long in doing so, and
when it did, he saw nothing at first but his own handsome, half-
serious,
half-incredulous face; but gradually a picture, distinct and
clear, formed itself at the bottom, and Sir Norman gazed with
bewildered eyes. He saw a large room filled with a sparkling
crowd, many of them ladies, splendidly arrayed and flashing in
jewels, and foremost among them stood one whose beauty surpassed
anything he had ever before dreamed of. She wore the robes of a
queen, purple and ermine - diamonds blazed on the beautiful neck,
arms, and fingers, and a tiara of the same brilliants crowned her
regal head. In one hand she held a sceptre; what seemed to be a
throne was behind her, but something that surprised Sir Norton
most of all was, to find himself standing beside her, the
cynosure of all eyes. While he yet gazed in mingled astonishment
and incredulity, the scene faded away, and another took its
place. This time a dungeon-cell, damp and dismal; walls, and
floor, and ceiling covered with green and hideous slime. A small
lamp stood on the floor, and by its sickly, watery gleam, he saw
himself again standing, pale and dejected, near the wall. But he
was not alone; the same glittering vision in purple and diamonds
stood before him, and suddenly he drew his sword and plunged it
up to the hilt in her heart! The beautiful vision fell like a
stone at his feet, and the sword was drawn out reeking with her
life-blood. This was a little too much for the real Sir Norman,
and with an expression of indignant consternation, he sprang
upright. Instantly it all faded away and the reflection of his
own excited face looked up at him from the caldron.
"I told you not to speak," said La Masque, quietly, "but you must
look on still another scene."
Again she threw
Sir Norman made her a low and courtly bow. She returned it by a
slight bend of the head, and turning toward his companion, spoke
"You here, again, Mr. Ormiston! To what am I indebted for the
honor of two visits in two days?"
Her voice, Sir Norman thought, was the sweetest he had ever
heard, musical as a chime of silver bells, soft as the tones of
an aeolian harp through which the west wind plays.
"Madam, I am aware my visits are undesired," said Ormiston, with
a flushing cheek and, slightly tremulous voice; "but I have
merely come with my friend, Sir Norman Kingsley, who wishes to
know what the future has in store for him."
Thus invoked, Sir Norman Kingsley stepped forward with another
low bow to the masked lady.
"Yes, madam, I have long heard that those fair fingers can
withdraw the curtain of the future, and I have come to see what
Dame Destiny is going to do for me."
"Sir Norman Kingsley is welcome," said the sweet voice, "and
shall see what he desires. There is but one condition, that he
will keep perfectly silent; for if he speaks, the scene he
beholds will vanish. Come forward!"
Sir Norman compressed his lips as closely am if they were forever
hermetically sealed, and came forward accordingly. Leaning over
the edge of the ebony caldron, he found that it contained nothing
more dreadful than water, for he labored under a vague and
unpleasant idea that, like the witches' caldron in Macbeth, it
might be filled with serpents' blood and children's' brains. La
Masque opened her golden casket, and took from it a portion of
red powder, with which it was filled. Casting it into the
caldron, she murmured an invocation in Sanscrit, or Coptic, or
some other unknown tongue, and slowly there arose a dense cloud
of dark-red smoke, that nearly filled the room. Had Sir Norman
ever read the story of Aladdin, he would probably have thought of
it then; but the young courtier did not greatly affect literature
of any kind, and thought of nothing now but of seeing something
when the smoke cleared away. It was rather long in doing so, and
when it did, he saw nothing at first but his own handsome, half-
serious,
half-incredulous face; but gradually a picture, distinct and
clear, formed itself at the bottom, and Sir Norman gazed with
bewildered eyes. He saw a large room filled with a sparkling
crowd, many of them ladies, splendidly arrayed and flashing in
jewels, and foremost among them stood one whose beauty surpassed
anything he had ever before dreamed of. She wore the robes of a
queen, purple and ermine - diamonds blazed on the beautiful neck,
arms, and fingers, and a tiara of the same brilliants crowned her
regal head. In one hand she held a sceptre; what seemed to be a
throne was behind her, but something that surprised Sir Norton
most of all was, to find himself standing beside her, the
cynosure of all eyes. While he yet gazed in mingled astonishment
and incredulity, the scene faded away, and another took its
place. This time a dungeon-cell, damp and dismal; walls, and
floor, and ceiling covered with green and hideous slime. A small
lamp stood on the floor, and by its sickly, watery gleam, he saw
himself again standing, pale and dejected, near the wall. But he
was not alone; the same glittering vision in purple and diamonds
stood before him, and suddenly he drew his sword and plunged it
up to the hilt in her heart! The beautiful vision fell like a
stone at his feet, and the sword was drawn out reeking with her
life-blood. This was a little too much for the real Sir Norman,
and with an expression of indignant consternation, he sprang
upright. Instantly it all faded away and the reflection of his
own excited face looked up at him from the caldron.
"I told you not to speak," said La Masque, quietly, "but you must
look on still another scene."
Again she threw