The Midnight Queen [64]
and does not
leave us without the ceremony of saying good-bye."
With which, he seized one of the wax candles, and trotted, with
rather unprincely haste, after Sir Norman and his conductors.
The young knight had been led down the same long passage he had
walked through before; but instead of entering the chamber of
horrors, they passed through the centre arch, and found
themselves in another long, vaulted corridor, dimly lit by the
glow of the outer one. It was as cold and dismal a place, Sir
Norman thought, as he had ever seen; and it had an odor damp and
earthy, and of the grave. It had two or three great, ponderous
doors on either aide, fastened with huge iron bolts; and before
one of these his conductors paused. Just as they did so, the
glimmer of the dwarf's taper pierced the gloom, and the next
moment, smiling from ear to ear, he was by their side.
"Down with the bars!" he cried. "This is the one for him - the
strongest and safest of them all. Now, my dashing courtier, you
will see how tenderly your little friend provides for his
favorites!"
If Sir Norman made any reply, it was drowned id the rattle and
clank of the massive bars, and is hopelessly lost to posterity.
The huge door swung back; but nothing was visible but a sort of
black velvet pall, and effluvia much stronger than sweet.
Involuntarily he recoiled as one of the guards made a motion for
him to enter.
"I Shove him in! shove him in!" shrieked the dwarf, who was
getting so excited with glee that he was dancing about in a sort
of jig of delight. "In with him - in with him! If he won't go
peaceably, kick him in head-foremost!"
"I would strongly advise them not to try it," said Sir Norman, as
he stepped into the blackness, "if they have any regard for their
health! It does not make much difference after all, my little
friend, whether I spend the next half-hour in the inky blackness
of this place or the blood-red grandeur of your royal court. My
little friend, until we meet again, permit me to say, au revoir."
The dwarf laughed in his pleasant way, and pushed the candle
cautiously inside the door.
"Good-by for a little while, my dear young sir, and while the
headsmen is sharpening his axe, I'll leave you to think about
your little friend. Lest you should lack amusement, I'll leave
you a light to contemplate your apartment; and for fear you may
get lonesome, these two gentlemen will stand outside your door,
with their swords drawn, till I come back. Good-by, my dear
,young sir - good-bye!"
The dungeon-door swung to with a tremendous bang Sir Norman was
barred in his prison to await his doom and the dwarf was skipping
along the passage with sprightliness, laughing as he went.
CHAPTER XIII.
ESCAPED.
Probably not one of you; my dear friends, who glance graciously
over this, was ever shut up in a dungeon under expectation of
bearing the unpleasant operation of decapitation within half an
hour. It never happened to myself, either, that I can recollect;
so, of course, you or I personally can form no idea what the
sensation may be like; but in this particular case, tradition
saith Sir Norman Kingsley's state of mind was decidedly
depressed. As the door shut violently, he leaned against it, and
listened to his jailers place the great bars into their sockets,
and felt he was shut in, in the dreariest, darkest, dismalest,
disagreeablest place that it had ever been his misfortune to
enter. He thought of Leoline, and reflected that in all
probability she was sleeping the sleep of the just - perhaps
dreaming of him, and little knowing that his head was to be cut
off in half an hour.
In course of time morning would come - it was not likely the
ordinary course of nature would be cut off because he was; and
Leoline would get up and dress herself, and looking a thousand
times prettier than ever, stand at
leave us without the ceremony of saying good-bye."
With which, he seized one of the wax candles, and trotted, with
rather unprincely haste, after Sir Norman and his conductors.
The young knight had been led down the same long passage he had
walked through before; but instead of entering the chamber of
horrors, they passed through the centre arch, and found
themselves in another long, vaulted corridor, dimly lit by the
glow of the outer one. It was as cold and dismal a place, Sir
Norman thought, as he had ever seen; and it had an odor damp and
earthy, and of the grave. It had two or three great, ponderous
doors on either aide, fastened with huge iron bolts; and before
one of these his conductors paused. Just as they did so, the
glimmer of the dwarf's taper pierced the gloom, and the next
moment, smiling from ear to ear, he was by their side.
"Down with the bars!" he cried. "This is the one for him - the
strongest and safest of them all. Now, my dashing courtier, you
will see how tenderly your little friend provides for his
favorites!"
If Sir Norman made any reply, it was drowned id the rattle and
clank of the massive bars, and is hopelessly lost to posterity.
The huge door swung back; but nothing was visible but a sort of
black velvet pall, and effluvia much stronger than sweet.
Involuntarily he recoiled as one of the guards made a motion for
him to enter.
"I Shove him in! shove him in!" shrieked the dwarf, who was
getting so excited with glee that he was dancing about in a sort
of jig of delight. "In with him - in with him! If he won't go
peaceably, kick him in head-foremost!"
"I would strongly advise them not to try it," said Sir Norman, as
he stepped into the blackness, "if they have any regard for their
health! It does not make much difference after all, my little
friend, whether I spend the next half-hour in the inky blackness
of this place or the blood-red grandeur of your royal court. My
little friend, until we meet again, permit me to say, au revoir."
The dwarf laughed in his pleasant way, and pushed the candle
cautiously inside the door.
"Good-by for a little while, my dear young sir, and while the
headsmen is sharpening his axe, I'll leave you to think about
your little friend. Lest you should lack amusement, I'll leave
you a light to contemplate your apartment; and for fear you may
get lonesome, these two gentlemen will stand outside your door,
with their swords drawn, till I come back. Good-by, my dear
,young sir - good-bye!"
The dungeon-door swung to with a tremendous bang Sir Norman was
barred in his prison to await his doom and the dwarf was skipping
along the passage with sprightliness, laughing as he went.
CHAPTER XIII.
ESCAPED.
Probably not one of you; my dear friends, who glance graciously
over this, was ever shut up in a dungeon under expectation of
bearing the unpleasant operation of decapitation within half an
hour. It never happened to myself, either, that I can recollect;
so, of course, you or I personally can form no idea what the
sensation may be like; but in this particular case, tradition
saith Sir Norman Kingsley's state of mind was decidedly
depressed. As the door shut violently, he leaned against it, and
listened to his jailers place the great bars into their sockets,
and felt he was shut in, in the dreariest, darkest, dismalest,
disagreeablest place that it had ever been his misfortune to
enter. He thought of Leoline, and reflected that in all
probability she was sleeping the sleep of the just - perhaps
dreaming of him, and little knowing that his head was to be cut
off in half an hour.
In course of time morning would come - it was not likely the
ordinary course of nature would be cut off because he was; and
Leoline would get up and dress herself, and looking a thousand
times prettier than ever, stand at