"Can you doubt it? Since I knew you first, I have desired this hour as the blind desire sight."
"Ah! And you will find it as sweet to look back upon as you have to look forward to," said La Masque, derisively. "If you are wise for yourself, Mr. Ormiston, you will pause here, and give me back that fatal word."
"Never, madame! And surely you will not be so pitilessly cruel as to draw back, now?"
"No, I have promised, and I shall perform; and let the consequences be what they may, they will rest upon your own head. You have been warned, and you still insist."
"I still insist!"
"Then let us move farther over here into the shadow of the houses; this moonlight is so dreadfully bright!"
They moved on into the deep shadow, and there was a pulse throbbing in Ormiston"s head and heart like the beating of a m.u.f.fed drum. They paused and faced each other silently.
"Quick, madame!" cried Ormiston, hoa.r.s.ely, his whole face flushed wildly.
His strange companion lifted her hand as if to remove the mask, and he saw that it shook like an aspen. She made one motion as though about to lift it, and then recoiled, as if from herself, in a sort of horror.
"My G.o.d! What is this man urging me to do? How can I ever fulfill that fatal promise?"
"Madame, you torture me!" said Ormiston, whose face showed what he felt.
"You must keep your promise; so do not drive me wild waiting. Let me--"
He took a step toward her, as if to lift the mask himself, but she held out both arms to keep him off.
"No, no, no! Come not near me, Malcolm Ormiston! Fated man, since you will rush on your doom, Look! and let the sight blast you, if it will!"
She unfastened her mask, raised it, and with it the profusion of long, sweeping black hair.
Ormiston did look--in much the same way, perhaps, that Zulinka looked at the Veiled Prophet. The next moment there was a terrible cry, and he fell headlong with a crash, as if a bullet had whined through his heart.
CHAPTER XVIII. THE INTERVIEW.
I am not aware whether fainting was as much the fashion among the fair s.e.x, in the days (or rather the nights) of which I have the honor to hold forth, as at the present time; but I am inclined to think not, from the simple fact that Leoline, though like John Bunyan, "grievously troubled and tossed about in her mind," did nothing of the kind. For the first few moments, she was altogether too stunned by the suddenness of the shock to cry out or make the least resistance, and was conscious of nothing but of being rapidly borne along in somebody"s arms. When this hazy view of things pa.s.sed away, her new sensation was, the intensely uncomfortable one of being on the verge of suffocation. She made one frantic but futile effort to free herself and scream for help, but the strong arms held her with most loving tightness, and her cry was drowned in the hot atmosphere within the shawl, and never pa.s.sed beyond it. Most a.s.suredly Leoline would have been smothered then and there, had their journey been much longer; but, fortunately for her, it was only the few yards between her house and the river. She knew she was then carried down some steps, and she heard the dip of the oars in the water, and then her bearer paused, and went through a short dialogue with somebody else--with Count L"Estrange, she rather felt than knew, for nothing was audible but a low murmur. The only word she could make out was a low, emphatic "Remember!" in the count"s voice, and then she knew she was in a boat, and that it was shoved off, and moving down the rapid river. The feeling of heat and suffocation was dreadful and as her abductor placed her on some cushions, she made another desperate but feeble effort to free herself from the smothering shawl, but a hand was laid lightly on hers, and a voice interposed.
"Lady, it is quite useless for you to struggle, as you are irrevocably in my power, but if you will promise faithfully not to make any outcry, and will submit to be blindfolded, I shall remove this oppressive m.u.f.fling from your head. Tell me if you will promise."
He had partly raised the shawl, and a gush of free air came revivingly in, and enabled Leoline to gasp out a faint "I promise!" As she spoke, it was lifted off altogether, and she caught one bright fleeting glimpse of the river, sparkling and silvery in the moonlight; of the bright blue sky, gemmed with countless stars, and of some one by her side in the dress of a court-page, whose face was perfectly unknown to her. The next instant, a bandage was bound tightly over her eyes, excluding every ray of light, while the strange voice again spoke apologetically,
"Pardon, lady, but it is my orders! I am commanded to treat you with every respect, but not to let you see where you are borne to."
"By what right does Count L"Estrange commit this outrage!" began Leoline, almost as imperiously as Miranda herself, and making use of her tongue, like a true woman, the very first moment it was at her disposal.
"How dare he carry me off in this atrocious way? Whoever you are, sir, if you have the spirit of a man, you will bring me directly back to my own house."
"I am very sorry, lady, but I have received orders that must be obeyed!
You must come with me, but you need fear nothing; you will be as safe and secure as in your own home."
"Secure enough, no doubt!" said Leoline, bitterly. "I never did like Count L"Estrange, but I never knew he was a coward and a villain till now!"
Her companion made no reply to this forcible address, and there was a moment"s indignant silence on Leoline"s part, broken only by the dip of the oars, and the rippling of the water. Then,
"Will you not tell me, at least, where you are taking me to?" haughtily demanded Leoline.
"Lady, I cannot! It was to prevent you knowing, that you have been blindfolded."
"Oh! your master has a faithful servant, I see! How long am I to be kept a prisoner?"
"I do not know."
"Where is Count L"Estrange?"
"I cannot tell."
"Where am I to see him?"
"I cannot say."
"Ha!" said Leoline, with infinite contempt, and turning her back upon him she relapsed into gloomy silence. It had all been so sudden, and had taken her so much by surprise, that she had not had time to think of the consequences until now. But now they came upon her with a rush, and with dismal distinctness; and most distinct among all was, what would Sir Norman say! Of course, with all a lover"s impatience, he would be at his post by sunrise, would come to look for his bride, and find himself sold! By that time she would be far enough away, perhaps a melancholy corpse (and at this dreary pa.s.sage in her meditations, Leoline sighed profoundly), and he would never know what had become of her, or how much and how long she had loved him. And this hateful Count L"Estrange, what did he intend to do with her? Perhaps go so far as to make her marry him, and imprison her with the rest of his wives; for Leoline was prepared to think the very worst of the count, and had not the slightest doubt that he already had a harem full of abducted wives, somewhere. But no--he never could do that, he might do what he liked with weaker minds, but she never would be a bride of his while the plague or poison was to be had in London. And with this invincible determination rooted fixedly, not to say obstinately, in her mind, she was nearly pitched overboard by the boat suddenly landing at some unexpected place. A little natural scream of terror was repressed on her lips by a hand being placed over them, and the determined but perfectly respectful tones of the person beside her speaking.
"Remember your promise, lady, and do not make a noise. We have arrived at our journey"s end, and if you will take my arm, I will lead you along, instead of carrying you."
Leoline was rather surprised to find the journey so short, but she arose directly, with silence and dignity--at least with as much of the latter commodity as could be reasonably expected, considering that boats on water are rather unsteady things to be dignified in--and was led gently and with care out of the swaying vessel, and up another flight of stairs. Then, in a few moments, she was conscious of pa.s.sing from the free night air into the closer atmosphere of a house; and in going through an endless labyrinth of corridors, and pa.s.sages, and suites of rooms, and flights of stairs, until she became so extremely tired, that she stopped with spirited abruptness, and in the plainest possible English, gave her conductor to understand that they had gone about far enough for all practical purposes. To which that patient and respectful individual replied that he was glad to inform her they had but a few more steps to go, which the next moment proved to be true, for he stopped and announced that their promenade was over for the night.
"And I suppose I may have the use of my eyes at last?" inquired Leoline, with more haughtiness than Sir Norman could have believed possible so gentle a voice could have expressed.
For reply, her companion rapidly untied the bandage, and withdrew it with a flourish. The dazzling brightness that burst upon her, so blinded her, that for a moment she could distinguish nothing; and when she looked round to contemplate her companion, she found him hurriedly making his exit, and securely locking the door.
The sound of the key turning in the lock gave her a most peculiar sensation, which none but those who have experienced it can properly understand. It is not the most comfortable feeling in the world to know you are a prisoner, even if you have no key turned upon you but the weather, and your jailer be a high east wind and lashing rain. Leoline"s prison and jailer were something worse; and, for the first time, a chill of fear and dismay crept icily to the core of her heart. But Leoline had something of Miranda"s courage, as well as her looks and temper; so she tried to feel as brave as possible, and not think of her unpleasant predicament while there remained anything else to think about. Perhaps she might escape, too; and, as this notion struck her, she looked with eager anxiety, not unmixed with curiosity, at the place where she was.
By this time, her eyes had been accustomed to the light, which proceeded from a great antique lamp of bronze, pendent by a bra.s.s chain from the ceiling; and she saw she was in a moderately sized and by no means splendid room. But what struck her most was, that everything had a look of age about it, from the glittering oak beams of the floor to the faded ghostly hangings on the wall. There was a bed at one end--a great spectral ark of a thing, like a mausoleum, with drapery as old and spectral as that on the walls, and in which she could no more have lain than in a moth-eaten shroud. The seats and the one table the room held were of the same ancient and weird pattern, and the sight of them gave her a shivering sensation not unlike an ague chill. There was but one door--a huge structure, with shining panels, securely locked; and escape from that quarter was utterly out of the question. There was one window, hung with dark curtains of tarnished embroidery, but in pushing them aside, she met only a dull blank of unlighted gla.s.s, for the shutters were firmly secured without. Altogether, she could not form the slightest idea where she was; and, with a feeling of utter despair, she sat down on one of the queer old chairs, with much the same feeling as if she were sitting in a tomb.
What would Sir Norman say? What would he ever think of her, when he found her gone. And what was destined to be her fate in this dreadful out-of-the-way place? She would have cried, as most of her s.e.x would be tempted to do in such a situation, but that her dislike and horror of Count L"Estrange was a good deal stronger than her grief, and turned her tears to sparks of indignant fire. Never, never, never! would she be his wife! He might kill her a thousand times, if he liked, and she wouldn"t yield an inch. She did not mind dying in a good cause; she could do it but once. And with Sir Norman despising her, as she felt he must do, when he found her run away, she rather liked the idea than otherwise.
Mentally, she bade adieu to all her friends before beginning to prepare for her melancholy fate--to her handsome lover, to his gallant friend Ormiston, to her poor nurse, Prudence, and to her mysterious visitor, La Masque.
La Masque! Ah! that name awoke a new chord of recollection--the casket, she had it with her yet. Instantly, everything was forgotten but it and its contents; and she placed a chair directly under the lamp, drew it out, and looked at it. It was a pretty little bijou itself, with its polished ivory surface, and shining clasps of silver. But the inside had far more interest for her than the outside, and she fitted the key and unlocked it with a trembling hand. It was lined with azure velvet, wrought with silver thread, in dainty wreathe of water lilies; and in the bottom, neatly folded, lay a sheet of foolscap. She opened it with nervous haste; it was a common sheet enough, stamped with fool"s cap and bells, that showed it belonged to Cromwell"s time. It was closely written, in a light, fair hand, and bore the t.i.tle "Leoline"s History."
Leoline"s hand trembled so with eagerness, she could scarcely hold the paper; but her eye rapidly ran from line to line, and she stopped not till she reached the end. While she read, her face alternately flushed and paled, her eyes dilated, her lips parted; and before she finished it, there came over all a look of the most unutterable horror. It dropped from her powerless fingers as she finished; and she sank back in her chair with such a ghastly paleness, that it seemed absolutely like the lividness of death.
A sudden and startling noise awoke her from her trance of horror--some one trying to get in at the window! The chill of terror it sent through every vein acted as a sort of counter-irritant to the other feeling, and she sprang from her chair and turned her face fearfully toward the sounds. But in all her terror she did not forget the mysterious sheet of foolscap, which lay, looking up at her, on the floor; and she s.n.a.t.c.hed it up, and thrust it and the casket out of sight. Still the sounds went on, but softly and cautiously; and at intervals, as if the worker were afraid of being heard. Leoline went back, step by step, to the other extremity of the room, with her eyes still fixed on the window, and on her face a white terror, that left her perfectly colorless.
Who could it be? Not Count L"Estrange, for he would surely not need to enter his own house like a burglar--not Sir Norman Kingsley, for he could certainly not find out her abduction and her prison so soon, and she had no other friends in the whole wide world to trouble themselves about her. There was one, but the idea of ever seeing her again was so unspeakably dreadful, that she would rather have seen the most horrible spectre her imagination could conjure up, than that tall, graceful, rich-robed form.
Still the noises perseveringly continued; there was the sound of withdrawing bolts, and then a pale ray of moonlight shot between the parted curtains, shoving the shutters had been opened. Whiter and whiter Leoline grew, and she felt herself growing cold and rigid with mortal fear. Softly the window was raised, a hand stole in and parted the curtains, and a pale face and two great dark eyes wandered slowly round the room, and rested at last on her, standing, like a galvanized corpse, as far from the window as the wall would permit. The hand was lifted in a warning gesture, as if to enforce silence; the window was raised still higher, a figure, lithe and agile as a cat, sprang lightly into the room, and standing with his back to her, re-closed the shutters, re-shut the window, and re-drew the curtains, before taking the trouble to turn round.
This discreet little manoeuvre, which showed her visitor was human, and gifted with human prudence, re-a.s.sured Leoline a little; and, to judge by the reverse of the medal, the nocturnal intruder was nothing very formidable after all. But the stranger did not keep her long in suspense; while she stood gazing at him, as if fascinated, he turned round, stepped forward, took off his cap, made her a courtly bow, and then straightening himself up, prepared, with great coolness, to scrutinize and be scrutinized.
Well might they look at each other; for the two faces were perfectly the same, and each one saw himself and herself as others saw them. There was the same coal-black, curling hair; the same l.u.s.trous dark eyes; the same clear, colorless complexion, the same delicate, perfect features; nothing was different but the costume and the expression. That latter was essentially different, for the young lady"s betrayed amazement, terror, doubt, and delight all at once; while the young gentleman"s was a grand, careless surprise, mixed with just a dash of curiosity.