Books: The Midnight Queen
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May Agnes Fleming >> The Midnight Queen
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"Were you living here or in London then?" inquired Sir Norman,
taking an advantage of a pause, employed by Miranda in shaking
off the crawling beetles.
"Oh, in London! We did not come here until the outbreak of the
plague - that frightened them, especially the female portion, and
they held a scared meeting, and resolved that we should take up
our quarters somewhere else. This place being old and ruined,
and deserted and with all sorts of evil rumors hanging about it,
was hit upon; and secretly, by night, these mouldering old vaults
were fitted up, and the goods and chattels of the royal court
removed. And here I, too, was brought by night under the dwarf's
own eye; for he well knew I would have risked a thousand plagues
to escape from him. And here I have been ever since, and here
the weekly revels are still held, and may for years to come,
unless something is done to-night to prevent it.
"The night before these weekly anniversaries they all gather; but
during the rest of the time I am alone with Margery and the
dwarf, and have learned more secrets about this place than they
dream of. For the rest, there is little need of explanation -
the dwarf and his crew have industriously circulated the rumor
that it is haunted; and some of those white figures you saw with
me, and who, by the way, are the daughters of these robbers, have
been shown on the broken battlements, as if to put the fact
beyond doubt.
"Now, Sir Norman, that is all - you have heard my whole history
as far as I know it; and nothing remains but to tell you what you
must see yourself, that I am mad for revenge, and must have it,
and you must help me!"
Her eyes were shining with the fierce red fire he had seen in
them before, and the white face wore a look so deadly and
diabolical that, with all its beauty, it was absolutely
repulsive. He took a step from her-for in each of those gleaming
eyes sat a devil.
"You must help me!" she persisted. " You - you, Sir Norman! For
many a day I have been waiting for a chance like this, and until
now I have waited in vain. Alone, I want physical strength to
kill him, and I dare not trust any one else. No one was ever
cast among us before as you have been; and now, condemned to die,
you must be desperate, and desperate men will do desperate
things. Fate, Destiny, Providence - whatever you like - has
thrown you in my way, and help me you must and shall!"
"Madame, madame I what are you saying? How can I help you?"
"There is but one way - this!"
She held up in the pale ray of the lamp, something she drew from
the folds of her dress, that glistened blue, and bright, and
steelly in the gloom.
"A dagger!" he exclaimed, with a shudder, and a recoil. "Madame,
are you talking of murder?"
"I told you!" she said, through her closed teeth, and with her
eyes flaming like fire, "that ridding the earth of that fiend
incarnate would be a good deed, and no murder! I would do it
myself if I could take him off his guard; but he never is that
with me; and then my arm is not strong enough to reach his black
heart through all that mass of brawn, and blood, and muscle. No,
Sir Norman, Doom has allotted it to you - obey, and I swear to
you, you shall go free; refuse - and in ten minutes your head
will roll under the executioner's axe!"
"Better that than the freedom you offer! Madame, I cannot
murder!"
"Coward!" she passionately cried; "you fear to do it, and yet you
have but a life to lose, and that is lost to you now!"
Sir Norman raised his head; and even in the darkness she saw the
haughty flush that crimsoned his face.
"I fear no man living; but, madame, I fear One who is higher than
man!"
"But you will die if you refuse; and I repeat, again and again,
there is no risk. These guards will not let you out; but there
are more ways of leaving a room than through the door, and I can
lead you up behind the tapestry to where he is standing, and you
can stab him through the back, and escape with me! Quick, quick,
there is no time to lose!"
"I cannot do it !" he said, resolutely, drawing back and folding
his arms. "In short, I will not do it!"
There was such a terrible look in the beautiful eyes, that he
half expected to see her spring at him like a wild cat, and bury
the dagger in his own breast. But the rule of life works by
contraries: expect a blow and you will get a kiss, look for an
embrace, and you will be startled by a kick. When the virago
spoke, her voice was calm, compared with what it had been before,
even mild.
"You refuse! Well, a willful man must have him way; and since
you are so qualmish about a little bloodletting, we must try
another plan. If I release you - for short as the time is, I can
do it - will you promise me to go direct to the king this very
night, and inform him of all you've seen and heard here?"
She looked at him with an eagerness that was almost fierce; and
in spite of her steady voice, there was something throbbing and
quivering, deadly and terrible, in her upturned face. The form
she looked at was erect and immovable, the eyes were quietly
resolved, the mouth half-pityingly, half-sadly smiling.
"Are you aware, dear lady, what the result of such a step would
be?"
"Death!" she said, coldly.
"Death, transportation, or life-long imprisonment to them all -
misery and disgrace to many a noble house; for some I saw there
were once friends of mine, with families I honor and respect.
Could I bring the dwarf and his attendant imps to Tyburn, and
treat them to a hempen cravat, I would do it without remorse -
though the notion of being informer, even then, would not be very
pleasant; but as it is, I cannot be the death of one without
ruining all, and as I told you, some of those were once my
friends. No, madame, I cannot do it. I have but once to die and
I prefer death here, to purchasing life at such a price."
_____________
There was a short silence, during which they gazed into each
other's eyes ominously, and one was about as colorless as the
other.
"You refuse?" she coldly said.
"I must! But if you can save my life, as you say, why not do it,
and fly with me? You will find me the truest and most grateful
of friends, while life remains."
"You are very kind; but I want no friendship, Sir Norman -
nothing but revenge! As to escaping, I could have done that any
time since we came here, for I have found out a secret means of
exit from each of these vaults, that they know nothing of. But I
have staid to see him dead at my feet - if not by my hand, at
least by my command; and since you will not do it, I will make
the attempt myself. Farewell, Sir Norman Kingsley; before many
minutes you will be a corpse, and your blood be upon yourself!"
She gave him a glance as coldly fierce as her dagger's glance,
and turned to go, when he stepped hastily forward, and
interposed:
"Miranda - Miranda - you are crazed! Stop and tell me what you
intend to do."
"What you feared to attempt," she haughtily replied; "Sheathe
this dagger in his demon heart!"
"Miranda, give me the dagger. You must not, you shall not,
commit such a crime!"
"Shall not?" she uttered scornfully. "And who are you that dares
to speak to me like this? Stand aside, coward, and let me pass!"
"Pardon me, but I cannot, while you hold that dagger. Give it to
me, and you shall go free; but while you hold it with this
intention, for your own sake, I will detain you till some one
comes."
She uttered a low, fierce cry, and struck at him with it, but he
caught her hand, and with sudden force snatched it from her. In
doing so he was obliged to hold it with its point toward her, and
struggling for it in a sort of frenzy, as he raised the hand that
held it, she slipped forward and it was driven half-way to the
hilt in her side. There was a low, grasping cry - a sudden
clasping of both hands over her heart, a sway, a reel, and she
fell headlong prostrate on the loathsome floor.
Sir Norman stood paralyzed. She half raised herself on her
elbow, drew the dagger from the wound, and a great jet of blood
shot up and crimsoned her hands. She did not faint - there
seemed to be a deathless energy within her that chained life
strongly in its place - she only pressed both hands hard over the
wound, and looked mournfully and reproachfully up in his face.
Those beautiful, sad, solemn dyes, void of everything savage and
fierce, were truly Leoline's eyes now.
Through all his first shock of horror, another thing dawned on
his mind; he had looked on this scene before. It was the second
view in La Masque's caldron, and but one remained to be verified
The next instant, he was down on his knees in a paroxysm of grief
and despair.
"What have I done? what have I done?" was his cry.
"Listen!" she said, faintly raising one finger. "Do you hear
that?"
Distant steps were echoing along the passage. Yes; he heard
them, and knew what they were.
"They are coming to lead you to death!" she said, with some of
her old fire; "but I will baffle them yet. Take that lamp - go
to the wall yonder, and in that corner, near the floor, you will
see a small iron ring. Pull it - it does not require much force
- and you will find an opening leading through another vault; at
the end there is a broken flight of stairs, mount them, and you
will find yourself in the same place from which you fell. Fly,
fly! There is not a second to lose!"
"How can I fly? how can I leave you dying here?"
"I am not dying!" she wildly cried, lifting both hands from the
wound to push him away, while the blood flowed over the floor.
"But we will both die if you stay. Go-go-go!"
The footsteps had paused st his door. The bolts were beginning
to be withdrawn. He lifted the lamp, flew across his prison,
found the ring, and took a pull at it with desperate strength.
Part of what appeared to be the solid wall drew out, disclosing
an aperture through which he could just squeeze sideways. Quick
as thought he was through, forgetting the lamp in his haste. The
portion of the wall slid noiselessly back, just as the prison
door was thrown open, and the dwarfs voice was heard, socially
inviting him, like Mrs. Bond's ducks, to come and be killed.
Some people talk of darkness so palpable that it may be felt, and
if ever any one was qualified to tell from experience what it
felt like, Sir Norman was in that precise condition at that
precise period. He groped his way through the blind blackness
along what seemed an interminable distance, and stumbled, at
last, over the broken stairs at the end. With some difficult,
and at the serious risk of his jugular, he mounted them, and
found himself, as Miranda had stated, in a place he knew very
well. Once here he allowed no grass to grow under him feet; and,
in five minutes after, to his great delight, he found himself
where he had never hoped to be again - in the serene moonlight
and the open air, fetterless and free.
His horse was still where he had left him, and in a twinkling he
was on his back, and dashing away to the city, to love - to
Leoline!
CHAPTER XV.
LEOLINE'S VISITORS.
If things were done right - but they are not and, never will be,
while this whirligig world of mistakes spins round, and all
Adam's children, to the end of the chapter, will continue sinning
to-day and repenting tomorrow, falling the next and bewailing it
the day after. If Leoline had gone to bed directly, like a good,
dutiful little girl, as Sir Norman ordered her, she would have
saved herself a good deal of trouble and tears; but Leoline and
sleep were destined to shake hands and turn their backs on each
other that night. It was time for all honest folks to be in bed,
and the dark-eyed beauty knew it too, but she had no notion of
going, nevertheless. She stood in the centre of the room, where
he had left her, with a spot like a scarlet roseberry on either
cheek; a soft half-smile on the perfect mouth, and a light
unexpressibly tender and dreamy, in those artesian wells of
beauty - her eyes. Most young girls of green and tender years,
suffering from "Love's young dream," and that sort of thing, have
just that soft, shy, brooding look, whenever their thoughts
happen to turn to their particular beloved; and there are few
eyes so ugly that it does not beautify, even should they be as
cross as two sticks. You should have seen Leoline standing in
the centre of her pretty room, with her bright rose-satin
glancing and glittering, and flowing over rug and mat; with her
black waving hair clustering and curling like shining floss silk;
with a rich white shimmer of pearls on the pale smooth forehead
and large beautiful arms. She did look irresistibly bewitching
beyond doubt; and it was just as well for Sir Norman's peace of
mind that he did not see her, for he was bad enough without that.
So she stood thinking tenderly of him for a half-hour or so,
quite undisturbed by the storm; and how strange it was that she
had risen up that very morning expecting to be one man's bride,
and that she should rise up the next, expecting to be another's.
She could not realize it at all; and with a little sigh-half
pleasure, half presentiment - she walked to the window, drew the
curtain, and looked out at the night. All was peaceful and
serene; the moon was fall to overflowing, and a great deal of
extra light ran over the brim; quite a quantity of stars were
out, and were winking pleasantly down at the dark little planet
below, that went round, and round, with grim stoicism, and paid
no attention to anybody's business but its own. She saw the
heaps of black, charred ashes that the rush of rain had quenched;
she saw the still and empty street; the frowning row of gloomy
houses opposite, and the man on guard before one of them. She
had watched that man all day, thinking, with a sick shudder, of
the plague-stricken prisoners he guarded, and reading its piteous
inscription, "Lord have mercy on us!" till the words seemed
branded on her brain. While she looked now, an upper window was
opened, a night-cap was thrust out and a voice from its cavernous
depths hailed the guard.
"Robert! I say, Robert!"
"Well!" said Robert, looking up.
"Master and missus be gone at last, and the rest won't live till
morning."
"Won't they?" said Robert, phlegmatically; "what a pity! Got 'em
ready, and I'll stop the dead-cart when it comes round."
Just as he spoke, the well-known rattle of wheels, the loud
ringing of the bell, and the monotonous cry of the driver, "Bring
out your dead! bring out your dead!" echoed on the pale night's
silence; and the pest-cart came rumbling and jolting along with
its load of death. The watchman hailed the driver, according to
promise, and they entered the house together, brought out one
long, white figure, and then another, and threw them on top of
the ghastly heap.
"We'll have three more for you in on hour of so - don't forget to
come round," suggested the watchman.
"All right!" said the driver, as he took his place, whipped his
horse, rang his bell, and jogged along nonchalantly to the
plague-pit.
Sick at heart, Leoline dropped the curtain, and turned round to
see somebody else standing at her elbow. She had been quite
alone when she looked out; she was alone no longer; there had
been no noise, yet soma one had entered, and was standing beside
her. A tall figure, all in black, with its sweeping velvet robes
spangled with stars of golden rubies, a perfect figure of
incomparable grace and beauty. It had worn a cloak that had
dropped lightly from its shoulders, and lay on the floor and the
long hair streamed in darkness over shoulder and waist. The
face was masked, the form stood erect and perfectly motionless,
and the scream of surprise and consternation that arose to
Leoline's lips died out in wordless terror. Her noiseless
visitor perceived it, and touching her arm lightly with one
little white hand, said in her sweetest and most exquisite of
tones:
"My child, do not tremble so, and do not look so deathly white.
You know me, do you not?"
"You are La Masque!" said Leoline trembling with nervous dread.
"I am, and no stranger to you; though perhaps you think so. Is
it your habit every night to look out of your window in full
dress until morning?"
"How did you enter?" asked Leoline, her curiosity overcoming for
a moment even her fear.
"Through the door. Not a difficult thing, either, if you leave
it wide open every night, as it is this."
"Was it open?" said Leoline, in dismay. "I never knew it."
"Ah! then it was not you who went out last. Who was it?"
"It was - was - " Leoline's cheeks were scarlet; "it was a
friend!"
"A somewhat late hour for one's friends to visit," said La
Masque, sarcastically; "and you should learn the precaution of
seeing them to the door and fastening it after them."
"Rest assured, I shall do so for the future," said Leoline, with
a look that would have reminded Sir Nor man of Miranda had he
seen it. "I scarcely expected the honor of any more visits,
particularly from strangers to-night."
"Civil, that! Will you ask me to sit down, or am I to consider
myself an unseasonable intruder, and depart?"
"Madame, will you do me the honor to be seated. The hour, as you
say, is somewhat unseasonable, and you will oblige me by letting
me know to what I am indebted for the pleasure of this visit, as
quickly as possible."
There was something quite dignified about Mistress Leoline as she
swept rustling past La Masque, sank into the pillowy depths of
her lounge, and motioned her visitor to a seat with a slight and
graceful wave of her hand. Not but that in her secret heart she
was a good deal frightened, for something under her pink satin
corsage was going pit-a-pat at a wonderful rate; but she thought
that betraying such a feeling would not be the thing. Perhaps
the tall, dark figure saw it, and smiled behind her mask; but
outwardly she only leaned lightly against the back of the chair,
and glanced discreetly at the door.
"Are you sure we are quite alone?"
"Quite:"
"Because," said La Masque, in her low, silvery tones, "what I
have come to say is not for the ears of any third person living:"
"We are entirely alone, madame," replied Leoline, opening her
black eyes very wide. "Prudence is gone, and I do not know when
she will be back."
"Prudence will never come back," said La Masque, quietly.
"Madame!"
"My dear, do not look so shocked - it is not her fault. You know
she deserted you for fear of the plague."
"Yes, yes!"
"Well, that did not save her; nay, it even brought on what she
dreaded so much. Your nurse is plague-stricken, my dear, and
lies ill unto death in the pesthouse in Finsbury Fields."
"Oh, dreadful!" exclaimed Leoline, while every drop of blood fled
from her face. "My poor, poor old nurse!"
"Your poor, poor old nurse left you without much tenderness when
she thought you dying of the same disease," said La Masque,
quietly.
"Oh, that is nothing. The suddenness, the shock drove her to it.
My poor, dear Prudence."
"Well, you can do nothing for her now," said La Masque, in a tone
of slight impatience. "Prudence is beyond all human aid, and so
- let her rest in peace. You were carried to the plague-pit
yourself, for dead, were you not?"
"Yes," answered the pale lips, while she shivered all over at the
recollection.
"And was saved by - by whom were you saved, my dear?"
"By two gentlemen."
"Oh, I know that; what were their names?"
"One was Mr. Ormiston, the other was," hesitating and blushing
vividly, "Sir Norman Kingsley."
La Masque leaned across her chair, and laid one dainty finger
lightly on the girl's hot cheek.
"And for which is that blush, Leoline?"
"Madame, was it only to ask me questions you came here?" said
Leoline, drawing proudly back, though the hot red spot grew
hotter and redder; "if so, you will excuse my declining to answer
any more."
"Child, child!" said La Masque, in a tone so strangely sad that
it touched Leoline, "do not be angry with me. It is no idle
curiosity that sent me here at this hour to ask impertinent
questions, but a claim that I have upon you, stronger than that
of any one else in the world."
Leoline's beautiful eyes opened wider yet.
"A claim upon me! How? Why? I do not understand."
"All in good time. Will you tell me something of your past
history, Leoline?"
"Madame Masque, I have no history to tell. All my life I have
lived alone with Prudence; that in the whole of it in nine
words."
La Masque half laughed.
"Short, sharp, and decisive. Had you never father or mother?"
"There is a slight probability I may have had at some past
period," said Leoline, sighing; "but none that I ever knew."
"Why does not Prudence tell you?"
"Prudence is only my nurse, and says she has nothing to tell. My
parents died when I was an infant, and left me in her care - that
is her story."
"A likely one enough, and yet I see by your face that you doubt
it."
"I do doubt it! There are a thousand little outward things that
make me fancy it is false, and an inward voice that assures me it
is so."
"Then let me tell you that inward voice tells falsehoods, for I
know that your father and mother are both dead these fourteen
years!"
Leoline's great black eyes were fixed on her face with a look so
wild and eager, that La Masque laid her hand lightly and
soothingly on her shoulder.
"Don't look at me with such a spectral face! What is there so
extraordinary in all I have said?"
"You said you knew my father and mother."
"No such thing! I said I knew they were dead, but the other fact
is true also; I did know them when living!"
"Madame, who are you? Who were they?"
"I? Oh, I am La Masque, the sorceress, and they - they were
Leoline's father and mother!" and again La Masque slightly
laughed.
"You mock me, madame!" cried Leoline, passionately. "You are
cruel - you are heartless! If you know anything, in Heaven's
name tell me - if not, go and leave me in peace!"
"Thank you! I shall do that presently; and as to the other - of
course I shall tell you; what else do you suppose I have come for
to-night? Look here! Do you see this?"
She drew out from some hidden pocket in her dress a small and
beautifully-wrought casket of ivory and silver, with straps and
clasps of silver, and a tiny key of the same.
"Well!" asked Leoline, looking from it to her, with the blank air
of one utterly bewildered
"In this casket, my dear, there is a roll of papers, closely
written, which you are to read as soon as I leave you. Those
papers contain your whole history - do you understand?"
She was looking so white, and staring so hard and so hopelessly,
that there was need of the question. She took the casket and
gazed at it with a perplexed air.
"My child, have your thoughts gone wool-gathering? Do you not
comprehend what I have said to you! Your whole history is hid in
that box?"
"I know!" said Leoline, slowly, and with her eyes again riveted
to the black mask. "But; madame, who are you?"
"Have I not told you? What a pretty inquisitor it is! I am La
Masque - your friend, now; something more soon, as you will see
when you read what I have spoken of. Do not ask me how I have
come by it - you will read all about it there. I did not know
that I would give it to you to-night, but I have a strange
foreboding that it is destined to be my last on earth. And,
Leoline my child, before I leave you, let me hear you say you
will not hate me when you read what is there."
"What have you done to me? Why should I hate you?"
"Ah! you will find that all out soon enough. Do content me,
Leoline - let me hear you say; `La Masque, whatever you've done
to me, however you have wronged me, I will forgive you!' Can you
say that?"
Leoline repeated it simply, like a little child. La Masque took
her hand, held it between both her own, leaned over and looked
earnestly in her face.
"My little Leoline! my beautiful rosebud! May Heaven bless you
and grant you a long and happy life with - shall I say it,
Leoline?"
"Please - no!" whispered Leoline, shyly.
La Masque softly patted the little tremulous hand.
"We are both saying the name now in our hearts, my dear, so it is
little matter whether our lips repeat it or not. He is worthy,
of you, Leoline, and your life will be a happy one by his side;
but there is another." She paused and lowered her voice. "When
have you seen Count L'Estrange?"
"Not since yesterday, madame."
"Beware of him! Do you know who he is, Leoline?"
"I know nothing of him but his name."
"Then do not seek to know," said La Masque, emphatically. "For
it is a secret you would tremble to hear. And now I must leave
you. Come with me to the door, and fasten it as soon as I go
out, lest you should forget it altogether."
Leoline, with a dazed expression, thrust the precious little
casket into the bosom of her dress, and taking up the lamp,
preceded her visitor down stairs. At the door they paused, and
La Masque, with her hand on her arm, repeated, in a low, earnest
voice
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