The Midnight Queen [7]
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
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