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?"

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"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!"




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