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The Midnight Queen [7]

By Root 1983 0
and I think you had better give up the chase, and

let me take your place. I don't believe you have the ghost of a

chance, Ormiston."



"I don't believe it myself," said Ormiston, with a desperate face

"but until the plague carries me off I cannot give her up; and

the sooner that happens, the better. Ha! what is this?"



It was a piercing shriek - no unusual sound; and as he spoke, the

door of an adjoining house was flung open, a woman rushed wildly

out, fled down an adjoining street, and disappeared.



Sir Norman and his companion looked at each other, and then at

the house.



"What's all this about?" demanded Ormiston.



"That's a question I can't take it upon myself to answer," said

Sir Norman; "and the only way to solve the mystery, is to go in

and see."



"It may be the plague," said Ormiston, hesitating. "Yet the

house is not marked. There is a watchman. I will ask him."



The man with the halberd in his hand was walking up and down

before an adjoining house, bearing the ominous red cross and

piteous inscription: "Lord have mercy on us!"



"I don't know, sir," was his answer to Ormiston. "If any one

there has the plague, they must have taken it lately; for I heard

this morning there was to be a wedding there to-night."



"I never heard of any one screaming in that fashion about a

wedding," said Ormiston, doubtfully. "Do you know who lives

there?"



"No, sir. I only came here, myself, yesterday, but two or three

times to-day I have seen a very beautiful young lady looking out

of the window."



Ormiston thanked the man, and went back to report to his friend.



"A beautiful young lady!" said Sir Norman, with energy. "Then I

mean to go directly up and see about it, and you can follow or

not, just as you please."



So saying, Sir Norman entered the open doorway, and found himself

in a long hall, flanked by a couple of doors on each side. These

he opened in rapid succession, finding nothing but silence and

solitude; and Ormiston - who, upon reflection, chose to follow -

ran up a wide and sweeping staircase at the end of the hall. Sir

Norman followed him, and they came to a hall similar to the one

below. A door to the right lay open; and both entered without

ceremony, and looked around.



The room was spacious, and richly furnished. Just enough light

stole through the oriel window at the further end, draped with

crimson satin embroidered with gold, to show it. The floor was

of veined wood of many colors, arranged in fanciful mosaics, and

strewn with Turkish rugs and Persian mats of gorgeous colors.

The walls were carved, the ceiling corniced, and all fretted with

gold network and gilded mouldings. On a couch covered with

crimson satin, like the window drapery, lay a cithren and some

loose sheets of music. Near it was a small marble table, covered

with books and drawings, with a decanter of wine and an exquisite

little goblet of Bohemian glass. The marble mantel was strewn

with ornaments of porcelain and alabaster, and a

beautifully-carved vase of Parian marble stood in the centre,

filled with brilliant flowers. A great mirror reflected back the

room, and beneath it stood a toilet-table, strewn with jewels,

laces, perfume-bottles, and an array of costly little feminine

trifles such as ladies were as fond of two centuries ago as they

are to-day. Evidently it was a lady's chamber; for in a recess

near the window stood a great quaint carved bedstead, with

curtains and snowy lace, looped back with golden arrows and

scarlet ribbons. Some one lay on it, too - at least, Ormiston

thought so; and he went cautiously forward, drew the curtain, and

looked down.



"Great Heaven! what a beautiful face!" was his cry, as he bent

still further down.



"What the plague is the matter?" asked Sir Norman, coming

forward.



"You have said it," said Ormiston, recoiling. "The plague is the
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