"Here again, Mr. Ormiston? Is this the fifth or sixth time I've found

you in this place to-night?"

"La Masque!" he cried, between joy and surprise. "But surely, I was not

totally unexpected this time?"

"Perhaps not. You are waiting here for me to redeem my promise, I

suppose?"

"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,

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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 muffed drum. They paused

and faced each other silently.

"Quick, madame!" cried Ormiston, hoarsely, 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 God! 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 hart.




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