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The Midnight Queen [80]

By Root 1957 0
he was sure, had

befallen her during his absence - how could it be otherwise with

the Earl of Rochester and Count L'Estrange both on her track?

Perhaps, by this time, one or other had found her, and alone and

unaided she had been an easy victim, and was now borne beyond his

reach forever. The thought goaded him and his horse almost to

distraction; for the moment it struck him, he struck spurs into

his horse, making that unoffending animal jump spasmodically,

like one of those prancing steeds Miss Bonheur is fond of

depicting. Through the streets

he flew at a frantic rate, growing more excited and full of

apprehension the nearer he came to old London Bridge; and calling

himself a select litany of hard names inwardly, for having left

the dear little thing at all.



"If I find her safe and well," thought Sir Norman, emphatically,

"nothing short of an earthquake or dying of the plague will ever

induce me to leave her again, until she is Lady Kingsley, and in

the old manor of Devonshire. What a fool, idiot, and ninny I

must have been, to have left her as I did, knowing those two

sleuth-hounds were in full chase! What are all the Mirandas and

midnight queens to me, if Leoline is lost?"



That last question was addressed to the elements in general; and

as they disdained reply, he cantered on furiously, till the old

house by the river was reached. It was the third time that night

he had paused to contemplate it, and each time with very

different feelings; first, from simple curiosity; second, in an

ecstasy of delight, and third and last, in an agony of

apprehension. All around was peaceful and still; moon and stars

sailed serenely through a sky of silver and snow; a faint cool

breeze floated up from the river and fanned his hot and fevered

forehead; the whole city lay wrapped in stillness as profound and

deathlike as the fabled one of the marble prince in the Eastern

tale-nothing living moved abroad, but the lonely night-guard

keeping their dreary vigils before the plague-stricken houses,

and the ever-present, ever-busy pest-cart, with its mournful bell

and dreadful cry.



As far as Sir Norman could see, no other human being but himself

and the solitary watchman, so often mentioned, were visible.

Even he could scarcely be said to be present; for, though leaning

against the house with his halberd on his shoulder, he was sound

asleep at his post, and far away in the land of dreams. It was

the second night of his watch; and with a good conscience and a

sound digestion, there is no earthly anguish short of the

toothache, strong enough to keep a man awake two nights in

succession. So sound were his balmy slumbers in his airy

chamber, that not even the loud clatter of Sir Norman's horse's

hoofs proved strong enough to arouse him; and that young

gentleman, after glancing at him, made ap his mind to try to find

out for himself before arousing him to seek information.



Securing his home, he looked up at the house with wistful eyes,

and saw that the solitary light still burned in her chamber. It

struck him now how very imprudent it was to keep that lamp

burning; for if Count L'Estrange saw it, it was all up with

Leoline - and there was even more to be dreaded from him than

from the earl. How was he to find out whether that illuminated

chamber had a tenant or not? Certainly, standing there staring

till doomsday would not do it; and there seemed but two ways,

that of entering the house at once or arousing the man. But the

man was sleeping so soundly that it seemed a pity to awake him

for a trifle; and, after all, there could be no great harm or

indiscretion in his entering to see if his bride was safe.

Probably Leoline was asleep, and would know nothing about it; or,

even were she wide awake, and watchful, she was altogether too

sensible a girl to be displeased at his anxiety about her. If

she were still awake, and waiting for day-dawn,
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