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The Midnight Queen [6]

By Root 1963 0
a portion of the contents of the casket into the

caldron, and "spake aloud the words of power." Another cloud of

smoke arose and filled the room, and when it cleared away, Sir

Norman beheld a third and less startling sight. The scene and

place he could not discover, but it seemed to him like night and

a storm. Two men were lying on the ground, and bound fast

together, it appeared to him. As he looked, it faded away, and

once more his own face seemed to mock him in the clear water.



"Do you know those two last figures!" asked the lady.



"I do," said Sir Norman, promptly; "it was Ormiston and myself."



"Right! and one of them was dead."



"Dead!" exclaimed Sir Norman, with a perceptible start. "Which

one, madam?"



"If you cannot tell that, neither can I. If there is anything

further you wish to see, I am quite willing to show it to you."



"I'm obliged to you," said Sir Norman, stepping back; "but no

more at present, thank you. Do you mean to say, madam, that I'm

some day to murder a lady, especially one so beautiful as she I

just now saw?"



"I have said nothing - all you've seen will come to pass, and

whether your destiny be for good or evil, I have nothing to do

with it, except," said the sweet voice, earnestly, "that if La

Masque could strew Sir Norman Kingsley's pathway with roses, she

would most assuredly do so."



"Madam, you are too kind," said that young gentleman, laying his

hand on his heart, while Ormiston scowled darkly - "more

especially as I've the misfortune to be a perfect stranger to

you."



"Not so, Sir Norman. I have known you this many a day; and

before long we shall be better acquainted. Permit me to wish you

good evening!"



At this gentle hint, both gentlemen bowed themselves out, and

soon found themselves in the street, with very different

expressions of countenance. Sir Norman looking considerably

pleased and decidedly puzzled, and Mr. Ormiston looking savagely

and uncompromisingly jealous. The animated skeleton who had

admitted them closed the door after them; and the two friends

stood in the twilight on London Bridge.









CHAPTER II.



THE DEAD BRIDE





"Well," said Ormiston, drawing a long bath, "what do you think of

"that?"



"Think? Don't ask me yet." said Sir Norman, looking rather

bewildered. "I'm in such a state of mystification that I don't

rightly know whether I'm standing on my head or feet. For one

thing, I have come to the conclusion that your masked ladylove

must be enchantingly beautiful."



"Have I not told you that a thousand times, O thou of little

faith? But why have you come to such a conclusion?"



"Because no woman with such a figure, such a voice and such hands

could be otherwise."



"I knew you would own it some day. Do you wonder now that I love

her?"



"Oh! as to loving her," said Sir Norman, coolly, "that's quite

another thing. I could no more love her or her hands, voice, and

shape, than I could a figure in wood or wax; but I admire her

vastly, and think her extremely clever. I will never forget that

face in the caldron. It was the most exquisitely beautiful I

ever saw."



"In love with the shadow of a face! Why, you are a thousand-fold

more absurd than I."




"No," said Sir Norman, thoughtfully, "I don't know as I'm in love

with it; but if ever I see a living face like it, I certainly

shall be. How did La Masque do it, I wonder?"



"You had better ask her," said Ormiston, bitterly. "She seems to

have taken an unusual interest in you at first sight. She would

strew your path with roses, forsooth! Nothing earthly, I

believe, would make her say anything half so tender to me."



Sir Norman laughed, and stroked his moustache complacently.



"All a matter of taste, my dear fellow: and these women are noted

for their perfection in that line. I begin to admire La Masque

more and more,
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