第58章

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 s 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.