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The Midnight Queen [50]

By Root 2063 0


eyes of the boy. "And what do you want of her?"



The page glanced at him.



"Perhaps you know her yourself, sir Norman? If so, you will

answer quite as well as your friend, as I only want to know where

she lives."



"I have been out of town to-night," said Sir Norman, evasively,

"and there may have been more ladies than one jumped into the

Thames, daring my absence. Pray, describe your angel in white."



"I did not notice her particularly myself," said the boy, with

easy indifference, "as I am not in the habit of paying much

attention to young ladies who run wild about the streets at night

and jump promiscuously into rivers. However, this one was rather

remarkable, for being dressed as a bride, having long black hair,

and a great quantity of jewelry about her, and looking very much

like me. Having said she looks like me, I need not add she is

handsome."



"Vanity of vanities, all in vanity !" murmured Sir Norman,

meditatively. "Perhaps she is a relative of yours, Master

Hubert, since you take such an interest in her, and she looks so

much like you."



"Not that I know of," said Hubert, in his careless way. "I

believe I was born minus those common domestic afflictions,

relatives; and I don't take the slightest interest in her,

either; don't think it!"



"Then why are you in search of her?"



"For a very good reason - because I've been ordered to do so."



"By whom - your master?"



"My Lord Rochester," said that nobleman's page, waving off the

insinuation by a motion of his hand and a little displeased

frown; "he picked her up adrift, and being composed of highly

inflammable materials, took a hot and vehement fancy for her,

which fact he did not discover until your friend, Mr. Ormiston,

had carried her off."



Sir Norman scowled.



"And so he sent you in search of her, has he?"



"Exactly so; and now you perceive the reason why it is quite

important that I find Mr. Ormiston. We do not know where he has

taken her to, but fancy it must be somewhere near the river."



"You do? I tell you what it is, my boy," exclaimed Sir Norman,

suddenly and in an elevated key, "the best thing you can do is,

to go home and go to bed, and never mind young ladies. You'll

catch the plague before you'll catch this particular young lady -

I can tell you that!"



"Monsieur is excited," lisped the lad raining his hat end running

his taper fingers through his glossy, dark curls. "Is she as

handsome as they say she is, I wonder?"



"Handsome!" cried Sir Norman, lighting up with quite a new

sensation at the recollection. "I tell you handsome doesn't

begin to describe her! She is beautiful, lovely, angelic, divine

- " Here Sir Norman's litany of adjectives beginning to give

out, he came to a sudden halt, with a face as radiant as the sky

at sunrise.



"Ah! I did not believe them, when they told me she was so much

like me; but if she in as near perfection as you describe, I

shall begin to credit it. Strange, is it not, that nature should

make a duplicate of her greatest earthly chef d'oeuvre?"



"You conceited young jackanapes!" growled Sir Norman, in deep

displeasure. "It is far stranger how such a bundle of vanity can

contrive to live in this work-a-day world. You are a foreigner,

I perceive?"



"Yes, Sir Norman, I am happy to say I am."



"You don't like England, then?"



"I'd be sorry to like it; a dirty, beggarly, sickly place as I

ever saw!"



Sir Norman eyed the slender specimen of foreign manhood, uttering

this sentiment is the sincerest of tones, and let his hand fall

heavily on his shoulder



"My good youth, be careful! I happen to be a native, and not

altogether used to this sort of talk. How long have you been

here? Not long, I know myself - at least, not in the Earl of

Rochester's service, or I would have seen you."



"Right! I have not been here a month; but
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