"Indeed I and what possible interest could; the subject have for you, may I ask?""A deeper one than you think!" said Sir Norman, with a slight tremor in his voice as he thought of the lady, "the watchman told you the lady you sought for had been carried away dead, and thrown into the plague-pit!""Well," cried the stranger starting violently, "and was it not true?""Only partly.She was carried away in the pest-cart sure enough, but she was not thrown into the plague-pit!""And why?"
"Because, when on reaching that horrible spot, she was found to be alive!""Good Heaven! And what then?"
"Then," exclaimed Sir Norman, in a tone almost as excited as his own, "she was brought to the house of a friend, and left alone for a few minutes, while that friend went in search of a doctor.
On returning they found her - where do you think?""Where?"
"Gone!" said Sir Norman emphatically, "spirited away by some mysterious agency; for she was dying of the plague, and could not possibly stir hand or foot herself.""Dying of the plague, O Leoline!" said the stranger, in a voice full of pity and horror, while for a moment he covered his face with his hands.
"So her name is Leoline?" said Sir Norman to himself."I have found that out, and also that this gentleman, whatever he may be to her, is as ignorant of her whereabouts as I am myself.He seems in trouble, too.I wonder if he really happens to be her husband?"The stranger suddenly lifted his head and favored Sir Norman with a long and searching look.
"How come you to know all this, Sir Norman Kingsley," he asked abruptly.
"And how come you to know my name?" demanded Sir Norman, very much amazed, notwithstanding his assertion that nothing would astonish him more.
"That is of no consequence! Tell me how you've learned all this?" repeated the stranger, in a tone of almost stern authority.
Sir Norman started and stared.That voice I have had heard it a thousand times! It had evidently been disguised before; but now, in the excitement of the moment, the stranger was thrown off his guard, and it became perfectly familiar.But where had he heard it?For the life of him, Sir Norman could not tell, yet it was as well known to him as his own.It had the tone, too, of one far more used to command than entreaty; and Sir Norman, instead of getting angry, us he felt he ought to have done, mechanically answered:
"The watchman told you of the two young men who brought her out and laid her in the dead-cart - I was one of the two.""And who was the other?"
"A friend of mine - one Malcolm Ormiston.""Ah! I know him! Pardon my abruptness, Sir Norman," said the stranger, once more speaking in his assumed suave tone, "but Ifeel deeply on this subject, and was excited at the moment.You spoke of her being brought to the house of a friend - now, who may that friend be, for I was not aware that she had any?""So I judged," said Sir Norman, rather bitterly, or she would not have been left to die alone of the plague.She was brought to my house, sir, and I am the friend who would have stood by her to the last!"Sir Norman sat up very straight and haughty on his horse; and had it been daylight, he would have seen a slight derisive smile pass over the lips of his companion.
