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The Midnight Queen [86]

By Root 1956 0
I to know you are not deceiving me, and will not betray

her into the power of the Earl of Rochester - if, indeed, she be

not in his power already."



"She is not in it, and never will be through me! I feel an odd

interest in this matter, and I will be true to you, Sir Norman -

though why I should be, I really don't know. I give you my word

of honor that I will do what I can to find Leoline and restore

her to you; and I have never yet broken my word of honor to any

man," said Hubert, drawing himself up.



"Well, I will trust you, because I cannot do anything better,"

said Sir Norman, rather dolefully; "but why not let me go with

you?"



"No, no! that would never do! I must go alone, and you must

trust me implicitly. Give me your hand upon it."



They shook hands silently, went down stairs, and stood for a

moment at the door.



"You'll find me here at any hour between this and morning," said

Sir Norman. "Farewell now, and Heaven speed you!"



The boy waved his hand in adieu, and started off at a sharp pace.

Sir Norman turned in the opposite direction for a short walk, to

cool the fever in his blood, and think over all that had

happened. As be went slowly along, in the shadow of the houses,

he suddenly tripped up over something lying in his path, and was

nearly precipitated over it.



Stooping down to examine the stumbling-block, it proved to be the

rigid body of a man, and that man was Ormiston, stark and dead,

with his face upturned to the calm night-sky.









CHAPTER XVII



THE HIDDEN FACE





When Mr. Malcolm Ormiston, with his usual good sense and

penetration, took himself off, and left Leoline and Sir Norman

tete-a-tete, his steps turned as mechanically as the needle to

the North Pole toward La Masque's house. Before it he wandered,

around it he wandered, like an uneasy ghost, lost in speculation

about the hidden face, and fearfully impatient about the flight

of time. If La Masque saw him hovering aloof and unable to tear

himself away, perhaps it might touch her obdurate heart, and

cause her to shorten the dreary interval, and summon him to her

presence at once. Just then some one opened the door, and his

heart began to beat with anticipation; some one pronounced his

name, and, going over, he saw the animated bag of bones -

otherwise his lady-love's vassal and porter.



"La Masque says," began the attenuated lackey, and Ormiston's

heart nearly jumped out of his mouth, "that she can't have

anybody hanging about her house like its shadow; and she wants

you to go away, and keep away, till the time comes she has

mentioned."



So saying the skeleton shut the door, and Ormiston's heart went

down to zero. There being nothing for it but obedience, however,

he slowly and reluctantly turned away, feeling in his bones, that

if ever he came to the bliss and ecstasy of calling La Masque

Mrs. Ormiston, the gray mare in his stable would be by long odds

the better horse. Unintentionally his steps turned to the

water-side, and he descended the flight of stairs, determined to

get into a boat and watch the illumination from the river.



Late as was the hour, the Thames seemed alive with wherries and

barges, and their numerous lights danced along the surface like

fire-flies over a marsh. A gay barge, gilded and cushioned, was

going slowly past; and as he stood directly under the lamp, he

was recognized by a gentleman within it, who leaned over and

hailed him



"Ormiston! I say, Ormiston!"



"Well, my lord," said Ormiston, recognizing the handsome face and

animated voice of the Earl of Rochester.



"Have you any engagement for the next half-hour? If not, do me

the favor to take a seat here, and watch London in flames from

the river."



"With all my heart," said Ormiston, running down to the water's

edge, and leaping into the boat. "With all this bustle of life

around here, one
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