THE STRANGER.
The two friends looked at each other in impressive silence for a moment, and spake never a word.Not that they were astonished -they were long past the power of that emotion: and if a cloud had dropped from the sky at their feet, they would probably have looked at it passively, and vaguely wonder if the rest would follow.Sir Norman, especially, had sank into a state of mind that words are faint and feeble to describe.Ormiston, not being quite so far gone, was the first to open his lips.
"Upon my honor, Sir Norman, this is the most astonishing thing ever I heard of.That certainly was the face of our half-dead bride! What, in the name ad all the gods, can it mean, I wonder?""I have given up wondering," said Sir Norman, in the same helpless tone."And if the earth was to open and swallow London up, I should not be the least surprised.One thing is certain:
the lady we are seeking and that page are one and the same.""And yet La Masque told you she was two miles from the city, in the haunted ruin; and La Masque most assuredly knows.""I have no doubt she is there.I shall not be the least astonished if I find her in every street between this and Newgate.""Really, it is a most singular affair! First you see her in the magic caldron; then we find her dead; then, when within an ace of being buried, she comes to life; then we leave her lifeless as a marble statue, shut up in your room, and fifteen minutes after, she vanishes as mysteriously as a fairy in a nursery legend.
And, lastly, she turns up in the shape of a court-page, and swaggers along London Bridge at this hour of the night, chanting a love song.Faith! it would puzzle the sphinx herself to read this riddle, I've a notion!""I, for one, shall never try to read it," said Sir Norman."I am about tired of this labyrinth of mysteries, and shall save time and La Masque to unravel them at their leisure.""Then you mean to give up the pursuit?"
"Not exactly.I love this mysterious beauty too well to do that;and when next I find her, be it where it may, I shall take care she does not slip so easily through my fingers.""I cannot forget that page," said Ormiston, musingly."It is singular, since, he wears the Earl of Rochester's livery, that we have never seen him before among his followers.Are you quite sure, Sir Norman, that you have not?""Seen him? Don't be absurd, Ormiston! Do you think I could ever forget such a face as that?""It would not be easy, I confess.One does not see such every day.And yet - and yet - it is most extraordinary!""I shall ask Rochester about him the first thing to-morrow; and unless he is an optical illusion - which I vow I half believe is the case - I will come at the truth in spite of your demoniac friend, La Masque!""Then you do not mean to look for him to-night?""Look for him? I might as well look for a needle in a haystack.
No! I have promised La Masque to visit the old ruins, and there I shall go forthwith.Will you accompany me?""I think not.I have a word to say to La, Masque, and you and she kept talking so busily, I had no chance to put it in."Sir Norman laughed.
"Besides, I have no doubt it is a word you would not like to utter in the presence of a third party, even though that third party be your friend and Pythias, Kingsley.Do you mean to stay here like a plague-sentinel until she returns?""Possibly; or if I get tired I may set out in search of her.
When do you return?"
"The Fates, that seem to make a foot-ball of my best affections, and kick them as they please, only know.If nothing happens -which, being interpreted, means, if I am still in the land of the living - I shall surely be back by daybreak.""And I shall be anxious about that time to hear the result of your night's adventure; so where shall we meet?""Why not here? it is as good a place an any.""With all my heart.Where do you propose getting a horse?""At the King's Arms - but a stones throw from here.Farewell.""Good-night, and God speed you!" said Ormiston.And wrapping his cloak close about him, he leaned against the doorway, and, watching the dancing lights on the river, prepared to await the return of La Masque.
With his head full of the adventures and misadventures of the night, Sir Norman walked thoughtfully on until he reached the King's Arms - a low inn on the bank of the river.To his dismay he found the house shut up, and bearing the dismal mark and inscription of the pestilence.While he stood contemplating it in perplexity, a watchman, on guard before another plague-stricken house, advanced and informed him that the whole family had perished of the disease, and that the landlord himself, the last survivor, had been carried off not twenty minutes before to the plague-pit.
"But," added the man, seeing Sir Norman's look of annoyance, and being informed what he wanted, "there are two or three horses around there in the stable, and you may as well help yourself, for if you don't take them, somebody else will."This philosophic logic struck Sir Norman as being so extremely reasonable, that without more ado he stepped round to the stables and selected the best it contained.Before proceeding on his journey, it occurred to him that, having been handling a plague-patient, it would be a good thing to get his clothes fumigated;so he stepped into an apothecary's store for that purpose, and provided himself also with a bottle of aromatic vinegar.Thus prepared for the worst, Sir Norman sprang on his horse like a second Don Quixote striding his good steed Rozinante, and sallied forth in quest of adventures.These, for a short time, were of rather a dismal character; for, hearing the noise of a horse's hoofs in the silent streets at that hour of the night, the people opened their doors as he passed by, thinking it the pest-cart, and brought forth many a miserable victim of the pestilence.