Securing his home, he looked up at the house with wistful eyes, and saw

that the solitary light still burned in her chamber. It struck him

now how very imprudent it was to keep that lamp burning; for if Count

L'Estrange saw it, it was all up with Leoline--and there was even

more to be dreaded from him than from the earl. How was he to find

out whether that illuminated chamber had a tenant or not? Certainly,

standing there staring till doomsday would not do it; and there seemed

but two ways, that of entering the house at once or arousing the man.

But the man was sleeping so soundly that it seemed a pity to awake

him for a trifle; and, after all, there could be no great harm or

Advertisement..

indiscretion in his entering to see if his bride was safe. Probably

Leoline was asleep, and would know nothing about it; or, even were she

wide awake, and watchful, she was altogether too sensible a girl to

be displeased at his anxiety about her. If she were still awake, and

waiting for day-dawn, he resolved to remain with her and keep her from

feeling lonesome until that time came--if she were asleep, he would

steal out softly again, and keep guard at her door until morning.

Full of these praiseworthy resolutions, he tried the handle of the

door, half expecting to find it locked, and himself obliged to effect

an entrance through the window; but no, it yielded to his touch, and

he went in. Hall and staircase were intensely dark, but he knew his

way without a pilot this time, and steered clear of all shoals and

quicksands, through the hall and up the stairs.

The door of the lighted room--Leoline's room--lay wide open, and he

paused on the threshold to reconnoitre. He had gone softly for fear of

startling her, and now, with the same tender caution, he glanced

round the room. The lamp burned on the dainty dressing table, where

undisturbed lay jewels, perfume bottles and other knickknacks. The

cithern lay unmolested on the couch, the rich curtains were drawn;

everything was as he had left it last--everything, but the pretty pink

figure, with drooping eyes, and pearls in the waves of her rich, black

hair. He looked round for the things she had worn, hoping she had taken

them off and retired to rest, but they were not to be seen; and with a

cold sinking of the heart, he went noiselessly across the room, and

to the bed. It was empty, and showed no trace of having been otherwise

since he and the pest-cart driver had borne from it the apparently

lifeless form of Leoline.

Yes, she was gone; and Sir Norman turned for a moment so sick with utter

dread, that he leaned against one of the tall carved posts, and hated

himself for having left her with a heartlessness that his worst enemy

could not have surpassed. Then aroused into new and spasmodic energy by

the exigency of the case, he seized the lamp, and going out to the hall,

made the house ring from basement to attic with her name. No reply, but

that hollow, melancholy echo that sounds so lugubriously through empty

houses, was returned; and he jumped down stairs with an impetuous rush,

flinging back every door in the hall below with a crash, and flying

wildly from room to room. In solemn grim repose they lay; but none of

them held the bright figure in rose-satin he sought. And he left them in

despair, and went back to her chamber again.




Most Popular