"Au revoir, then," said Hubert. "You will find me here when you come back."
Sir Norman, with a slight tremor of the nerves at what was to come, followed the king"s page through halls and anterooms, full of loiterers, courtiers, and their attendants. Once a hand was laid on his shoulder, a laughing voice met his ear, and the Earl of Rochester stood beside him!
"Good-morning, Sir Norman; you are abroad betimes. How have you left your friend, the Count L"Estrange?"
"Your lordship has probably seen him since I have, and should be able to answer that question best."
"And how does his suit progress with the pretty Leoline?" went on the gay earl. "In faith, Kingsley, I never saw such a charming little beauty; and I shall do combat with you yet--with both the count and yourself, and outwit the pair of you!"
"Permit me to differ from your lordship. Leoline would not touch you with a pair of tongs!"
"Ah! she has better taste than you give her credit for; but if I should fail, I know what to do to console myself."
"May I ask what?"
"Yes! there is Hubert, as like her an two peas in a pod. I shall dress him up in lace and silks, and gewgaws, and have a Leoline of my own already made its order."
"Permit me to doubt that, too! Hubert is as much lost to you as Leoline!"
Leaving the volatile earl to put what construction pleased him best on this last sententious remark, he resumed his march after George, and was ushered, at last, into an ante-room near the audience-chamber.
Count L"Estrange, still attired as Count L"Estrange, stood near a window overlooking the court-yard, and as the page salaamed and withdrew, he turned round, and greeted Sir Norman with his suavest air.
"The appointed hour is pa.s.sed, Sir Norman Kingsley, but that is partly your own fault. Your guide hither tells me that you stopped for some time at the house of a fortune-teller, known as La Masque. Why was this!"
"I was forced to stop on most important business," answered the knight, still resolved to treat him as the count, until it should please him to doff his incognito, "of which you shall hear anon. Just now, our business is with Leoline."
"True! And as in a short time I start with yonder cavalcade, there is but little time to lose. Apropos, Kingsley, who is that mysterious woman, La Masque?"
"She is, or was (for she is dead now) a French lady, of n.o.ble birth, and the sister of Leoline!"
"Her sister! And have you discovered Leoline"s history?"
"I have."
"And her name!"
"And her name. She is Leoline De Montmorenci! And with the proudest blood of France in her veins, living obscure and unknown--a stranger in a strange land since childhood; but, with G.o.d"s grace and your help, I hope to see her restored to all she has lost, before long."
"You know me, then?" said his companion, half-smiling.
"Yes, your majesty," answered Sir Norman, bowing low before the king.
CHAPTER XXIII. FINIS
As the last glimpse of moonlight and of Hubert"s bright face vanished, Leoline took to pacing up and down the room in a most conflicting and excited state of mind. So many things had happened during the past night; so rapid and unprecedented had been the course of events; so changed had her whole life become within the last twelve hours, that when she came to think it all over, it fairly made her giddy. Dressing for her bridal; the terrible announcement of Prudence; the death-like swoon; the awakening at the plague-pit; the maniac flight through the streets; the cold plunge in the river; her rescue; her interview with Sir Norman, and her promise; the visit of La Masque; the appearance of the count; her abduction; her journey here; the coming of Hubert, and their suddenly-discovered relationship. It was enough to stun any one; and the end was not yet. Would Hubert effect his escape? Would they be able to free her? What place was this, and who was Count L"Estrange? It was a great deal easier to propound this catechism to herself than to find answers to her own questions; and so she walked up and down, worrying her pretty little head with all sorts of anxieties, until it was a perfect miracle that softening of the brain did not ensue.
Her feet gave out sooner than her brain, though; and she got so tired before long, that she dropped into a seat, with a long-drawn, anxious sigh; and, worn out with fatigue and watching, she, at last, fell asleep.
And sleeping, she dreamed. It seemed to her that the count and Sir Norman were before her, in her chamber in the old house on London Bridge, tossing her heart between them like a sort of shuttlec.o.c.k.
By-and-by, with two things like two drumsticks, they began hammering away at the poor, little, fluttering heart, as if it were an anvil and they were a pair of blacksmiths, while the loud knocks upon it resounded through the room. For a time, she was so bewildered that she could not comprehend what it meant; but, at last, she became conscious that some one was rapping at the door. Pressing one hand over her startled heart, she called "Come in!" and the door opened and George entered.
"Count L"Estrange commands me to inform you, fair lady, that he will do himself the pleasure of visiting you immediately, with Sir Norman Kingsley, if you are prepared to receive them."
"With Sir Norman Kingsley!" repeated Leoline, faintly. "I-I am afraid I do not quite understand."
"Then you will not be much longer in that deplorable state," said George, backing out, "for here they are."
"Pardon this intrusion, fairest Leoline," began the count, "but Sir Norman and I are about to start on a journey, and before we go, there is a little difference of opinion between us that you are to settle."
Leoline looked first at one, and then at the other, utterly bewildered.
"What is it?" she asked.
"A simple matter enough. Last evening, if you recollect, you were my promised bride."
"It was against my will," said Leoline, boldly, though her voice shook, "You and Prudence made me."
"Nay, Leoline, you wrong me. I, at least, need no compulsion."
"You know better. You haunted me continually; you gave me no peace at all; and I would just have married you to get rid of you."
"And you never loved me?"
"I never did."
"A frank confession! Did you, then, love any one else?"
The dark eyes fell, and the roseate glow again tinged the pearly face.
"Mute!" said the count, with an almost imperceptible smile. "Look up, Leoline, and speak."
But Leoline would do neither. With all her momentary daring gone, she stood startled as a wild gazelle.
"Shall I answer for her, Sir Count?" exclaimed Sir Norman, his own cheek dashed. "Leoline! Leoline! you love me!"
Leoline was silent.
"You are to decide between us, Leoline. Though the count forcibly brought you here, he has been generous enough to grant this. Say, then, which of as you love best."
"I do not love him at all," said Leoline, with a little disdain, "and he knows it."
"Then it is I!" said Sir Norman, him whole face beaming with delight.
"It is you!"