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The Midnight Queen [63]

By Root 1971 0
Sir Norman looked steadfastly at the queen as she

received it. One of the gauzy nymphs presented it to her,

kneeling, and she took it with a look half bored, half impatient,

and lightly scrawled her autograph. The long, dark lashes did

not lift; no change passed over the calm, cold face, as icily

placid as a frozen lake in the moonlight - evidently the life or

death of the stranger was less than nothing to her. To him she,

too, was as nothing, or nearly so; but yet there was a sharp

jarring pain at his heart, as he saw that fair hand, that had

saved him once, so coolly sign his death warrant now. But there

was little time left for to watch her; for, as she pushed it

impatiently away, and relapsed into her former proud

listlessness, the dwarf got up with one of his death's-head

grins, and began:



"Sir Norman Kingsley, you have been tried and convicted as a spy,

and the paid-hireling of the vindictive and narrow-minded

Charles; and the sentence of this court, over which I have the

honor to preside, is, that you be taken hence immediately to the

place of execution, and there lose your head by the axe!"



"And a mighty small loss it will be!" remarked the duke to

himself, in a sort of parenthesis, as the dwarf concluded his

pleasant observation by thrusting himself forward across the

table, after his rather discomposing fashion, and breaking out

into one of has diabolical laughter-chips.



The queen, who had been sitting passive, and looking as if she

were in spirit a thousand miles away, now started up with sharp

suddenness, and favored his highness with one of her fieriest

fiery glances.



"Will your highness just permit somebody else to have a voice in

that matter? How many more trials are to come on tonight?"



"Only one," replied the duke, glancing over a little roll which

he held; "Lady Castlemaine's, for poisoning the Duchess of

Sutherland."



"And what is my Lady Castlemaine's fate to be?"



"The same as our friend's here, in all probability," nodding

easily, not to say playfully, at Sir Norman.



"And how long will her trial last?"



"Half an hour, or thereabouts. There are some secrets in the

matter that have to be investigated, and which will require some

time."



"Then let all the trials be over first, and all the beheadings

take place together. We don't choose to take the trouble of

traveling to the Black Chamber just to see his head chopped off,

and then have the same journey to undergo half an hour after, for

a similar purpose. Call Lady Castlemaine, and let this prisoner

be taken to one of the dungeons, and there remain until the time

for execution. Guards, do you hear? Take him away!"



The dwarf's face grew black as a thunder-cloud, and he jumped to

his feet and confronted the queen with a look so intensely ugly

that no other earthly face could have assumed it. But that lady

merely met it with one of cold disdain and aversion, and, keeping

her dark bright eyes fixed chillingly upon him, waved her white

hand, in her imperious way, to the guards. Those warlike

gentlemen knew better than to disobey her most gracious majesty

when she happened to be, like Mrs. Joe Gargary, on the "rampage,"

which, if her flashing eye and a certain expression about her

handsome mouth spoke the truth, must have been twenty hours out

of the twenty-four. As the soldiers approached to lead him away,

Sir Norman tried to catch her eye; but in vain, for she kept

those brilliant optics most unwinkingly fixed on the dwarf's

face.



"Call Lady Castlemaine," commanded the duke, as Sir Norman with

his guards passed through the doorway leading to the Black

Chamber. "Your highness, I presume, is ready to attend to her

case."



"Before I attend to hers or any one else's case," said the dwarf,

hopping over the table like an overgrown toad, "I will first see

that this guest of ours is properly taken care, of,
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