The Midnight Queen [89]
I've heard, I should say he is violently in love with
her."
"Count who?" asked Rochester. "Or has he, like his ladylove, no
other name?"
"Oh, no! The name of the gentleman who was so nearly blessed for
life, and missed it, is Count L'Estrange!"
The earl had been lying listlessly back, only half intent upon
his answer, as he watched the fire; but now he sprang sharply up,
and stared Ormiston full in the face.
"Count what did you say?" was his eager question, while his eyes,
more eager than his voice, strove to read the reply before it was
repeated.
"Count L'Estrange. You know him, my lord?" said Ormiston,
quietly.
"Ah!" said the earl. And then such a strange meaning smile went
wandering about his face. "I have not said that! So his name is
Count L'Estrange? Well, I don't wonder now at the girl's
beauty."
The earl sank back to his former nonchalant position and fell for
a moment or two into deep musing; and then, as if the whole thing
struck him in a new and ludicrous light, he broke out into an
immoderate fit of laughter. Ormiston looked at him curiously.
"It is my turn to ask questions, now, my lord. Who is Count
L'Estrange?"
"I know of no such person, Ormiston. I was thinking of something
else! Was it Leoline who told you that was her lover's name?"
No; I heard it by mere accident from another person. I am sure,
if Leoline is not a personage in disguise, he is."
"And why do you think so?"
"An inward conviction, my lord. So you will not tell me who he
is?"
"Have I not told you I know of no such person as Count
L'Estrange? You ought to believe me. Oh, here it comes."
This last was addressed to a great drop of rain, which splashed
heavily on his upturned face, followed by another and another in
quick succession.
"The storm is upon us," said the earl, sitting up and wrapping
his cloak closer around him, "and I am for Whitehall. Shall we
land you, Ormiston, or take you there, too?"
"I must land," said Ormiston. "I have a pressing engagement for
the next half-hour. Here it is, in a perfect deluge; the fires
will be out in five minutes."
The barge touched the stairs, and Ormiston sprang out, with
"Good-night" to the earl. The rain was rushing along, now, in
torrents, and he ran upstairs and darted into an archway of the
bridge, to seek the shelter. Some one else had come there before
him, in search of the same thing; for he saw two dark figures
standing within it as he entered.
"A sudden storm," was Ormiston's salutation, "and a furious one.
There go the fires - hiss and splutter. I knew how it would be."
"Then Saul and Mr. Ormiston are among the prophets?"
Ormiston had heard that voice before; it was associated in his
mind with a slouched hat and shadowy cloak; and by the fast-
fading flicker of the firelight, he saw that both were here. The
speaker wan Count L'Estrange; the figure beside him, slender and
boyish, was unknown.
"You have the advantage of me, sir," he said affecting ignorance.
"May I ask who you are?"
"Certainly. A gentlemen, by courtesy and the grace of God."
"And your name?"
"Count L'Estrange, at your service."
Ormiston lifted his cap and bowed, with a feeling somehow, that
the count was a man in authority.
"Mr. Ormiston assisted in doing a good deed, tonight, for a
friend of mine," said the count.
"Will he add to that obligation by telling me if he has not
discovered her again, and brought her back?"
"Do you refer to the fair lady in yonder house?"
"So she is there? I thought so, George," said the count,
addressing himself to his companion. "Yes, I refer to her, the
lady you saved from the river. You brought her there?"
"I brought her there," replied Ormiston.
"She is there still?"
"I presume so. I have heard nothing to the contrary "
her."
"Count who?" asked Rochester. "Or has he, like his ladylove, no
other name?"
"Oh, no! The name of the gentleman who was so nearly blessed for
life, and missed it, is Count L'Estrange!"
The earl had been lying listlessly back, only half intent upon
his answer, as he watched the fire; but now he sprang sharply up,
and stared Ormiston full in the face.
"Count what did you say?" was his eager question, while his eyes,
more eager than his voice, strove to read the reply before it was
repeated.
"Count L'Estrange. You know him, my lord?" said Ormiston,
quietly.
"Ah!" said the earl. And then such a strange meaning smile went
wandering about his face. "I have not said that! So his name is
Count L'Estrange? Well, I don't wonder now at the girl's
beauty."
The earl sank back to his former nonchalant position and fell for
a moment or two into deep musing; and then, as if the whole thing
struck him in a new and ludicrous light, he broke out into an
immoderate fit of laughter. Ormiston looked at him curiously.
"It is my turn to ask questions, now, my lord. Who is Count
L'Estrange?"
"I know of no such person, Ormiston. I was thinking of something
else! Was it Leoline who told you that was her lover's name?"
No; I heard it by mere accident from another person. I am sure,
if Leoline is not a personage in disguise, he is."
"And why do you think so?"
"An inward conviction, my lord. So you will not tell me who he
is?"
"Have I not told you I know of no such person as Count
L'Estrange? You ought to believe me. Oh, here it comes."
This last was addressed to a great drop of rain, which splashed
heavily on his upturned face, followed by another and another in
quick succession.
"The storm is upon us," said the earl, sitting up and wrapping
his cloak closer around him, "and I am for Whitehall. Shall we
land you, Ormiston, or take you there, too?"
"I must land," said Ormiston. "I have a pressing engagement for
the next half-hour. Here it is, in a perfect deluge; the fires
will be out in five minutes."
The barge touched the stairs, and Ormiston sprang out, with
"Good-night" to the earl. The rain was rushing along, now, in
torrents, and he ran upstairs and darted into an archway of the
bridge, to seek the shelter. Some one else had come there before
him, in search of the same thing; for he saw two dark figures
standing within it as he entered.
"A sudden storm," was Ormiston's salutation, "and a furious one.
There go the fires - hiss and splutter. I knew how it would be."
"Then Saul and Mr. Ormiston are among the prophets?"
Ormiston had heard that voice before; it was associated in his
mind with a slouched hat and shadowy cloak; and by the fast-
fading flicker of the firelight, he saw that both were here. The
speaker wan Count L'Estrange; the figure beside him, slender and
boyish, was unknown.
"You have the advantage of me, sir," he said affecting ignorance.
"May I ask who you are?"
"Certainly. A gentlemen, by courtesy and the grace of God."
"And your name?"
"Count L'Estrange, at your service."
Ormiston lifted his cap and bowed, with a feeling somehow, that
the count was a man in authority.
"Mr. Ormiston assisted in doing a good deed, tonight, for a
friend of mine," said the count.
"Will he add to that obligation by telling me if he has not
discovered her again, and brought her back?"
"Do you refer to the fair lady in yonder house?"
"So she is there? I thought so, George," said the count,
addressing himself to his companion. "Yes, I refer to her, the
lady you saved from the river. You brought her there?"
"I brought her there," replied Ormiston.
"She is there still?"
"I presume so. I have heard nothing to the contrary "