"Madame," he stammered, scarcely knowing what he said, "you are kind."
"Am I? Perhaps you forget I signed your death-warrant."
"Probably it would have been at the risk of your own life to refuse?"
"Nothing of the kind! Not one of them would hurt a hair of my head if I
refused to sign fifty death-warrants! Now, am I kind?"
"Very likely it would have amounted to the same thing in the end--they
would kill me whether you signed it or not; so what does it matter?"
"You are mistaken! They would not kill you; at least, not tonight, if
I had not signed it. They would have let you live until their next
meeting, which will be this night week; and I would have incurred
neither risk nor danger by refusing."
Sir Norman glanced round the dungeon and shrugged his shoulders.
"I do not know that that prospect is much more inviting than the present
one. Even death is preferable to a week's imprisonment in a place like
this."
"But in the meantime you might have escaped."
"Madame, look at this stone floor, that stone roof, these solid walls,
that barred and massive door; reflect that I am some forty feet under
ground--cannot perform impossibilities, and then ask yourself how?"
"Sir Norman, have you ever heard of good fairies visiting brave knights
and setting them free?"
Sir Norman smiled.
"I am afraid the good fairies and brave knights went the way of
all flesh with King Arthur's round table; and even if they were in
existence, none of them would take the trouble to limp down so far to
save such an unlucky dog as I."
"Then you forgive me for what I have done?"
"Your majesty, I have nothing to forgive."
"Bah!" she said, scornfully. "Do not mock me here. My majesty, forsooth!
you have but fifteen minutes to live in this world, Sir Norman; and
if you have no better way of spending them, I will tell you a strange
story--my own, and all about this place."
"Madame, there is nothing in the world I would like so much to hear."
"You shall hear it, then, and it may beguile the last slow moments of
time before you go out into eternity."
She set her lamp down on the floor among the rats and beetles, and stood
watching the small, red flame a moment with a gloomy, downcast eye; and
Sir Norman, gazing on the beautiful darkening face, so like and yet so
unlike Leoline, stood eagerly awaiting what was to come.
***** Meantime, the half-hour sped. In the crimson court the last trial was
over, and Lady Castlemaine, a slender little beauty of eighteen stood
condemned to die.
"Now for our other prisoner!" exclaimed the dwarf with sprightly
animation; "and while I go to the cell, you, fair ladies, and you my
lord, will seek the black chamber and await our coming there."