THE THIRD VISION.
Presentments are strange things.From the first moment Sir Norman entered the city, and his thoughts had been able to leave Miranda and find themselves wholly on Leoline, a heavy foreboding of evil to her had oppressed him.Some danger, he was sure, had befallen her during his absence - how could it be otherwise with the Earl of Rochester and Count L'Estrange both on her track?
Perhaps, by this time, one or other had found her, and alone and unaided she had been an easy victim, and was now borne beyond his reach forever.The thought goaded him and his horse almost to distraction; for the moment it struck him, he struck spurs into his horse, making that unoffending animal jump spasmodically, like one of those prancing steeds Miss Bonheur is fond of depicting.Through the streets he flew at a frantic rate, growing more excited and full of apprehension the nearer he came to old London Bridge; and calling himself a select litany of hard names inwardly, for having left the dear little thing at all.
"If I find her safe and well," thought Sir Norman, emphatically, "nothing short of an earthquake or dying of the plague will ever induce me to leave her again, until she is Lady Kingsley, and in the old manor of Devonshire.What a fool, idiot, and ninny Imust have been, to have left her as I did, knowing those two sleuth-hounds were in full chase! What are all the Mirandas and midnight queens to me, if Leoline is lost?"That last question was addressed to the elements in general; and as they disdained reply, he cantered on furiously, till the old house by the river was reached.It was the third time that night he had paused to contemplate it, and each time with very different feelings; first, from simple curiosity; second, in an ecstasy of delight, and third and last, in an agony of apprehension.All around was peaceful and still; moon and stars sailed serenely through a sky of silver and snow; a faint cool breeze floated up from the river and fanned his hot and fevered forehead; the whole city lay wrapped in stillness as profound and deathlike as the fabled one of the marble prince in the Eastern tale-nothing living moved abroad, but the lonely night-guard keeping their dreary vigils before the plague-stricken houses, and the ever-present, ever-busy pest-cart, with its mournful bell and dreadful cry.
As far as Sir Norman could see, no other human being but himself and the solitary watchman, so often mentioned, were visible.
Even he could scarcely be said to be present; for, though leaning against the house with his halberd on his shoulder, he was sound asleep at his post, and far away in the land of dreams.It was the second night of his watch; and with a good conscience and a sound digestion, there is no earthly anguish short of the toothache, strong enough to keep a man awake two nights in succession.So sound were his balmy slumbers in his airy chamber, that not even the loud clatter of Sir Norman's horse's hoofs proved strong enough to arouse him; and that young gentleman, after glancing at him, made ap his mind to try to find out for himself before arousing him to seek information.
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 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.
