"The family jewels of the Montmorencis.To be given to my sisters when I am dead."That settled their destiny.All this blaze of diamonds, rubies, and opals were Leoline's; and with the energetic rapidity characteristic of our young friend that morning, he swept them out on the table, and resumed his search for papers.No document was there to reward his search, but the brief one twined round the necklace; and he was about giving up in despair, when a small brass slide in one corner caught his eye.Instantly he was at it, trying it every way, shoving it out and in, and up and down, until at last it yielded to his touch, disclosing an inner drawer, full of papers and parchments.One glance showed them to be what he was in search of - proofs of Leoline and Hubert's identity, with the will of the marquis, their father, and numerous other documents relative to his wealth and estates.
These precious manuscripts he rolled together in a bundle, and placed carefully in his doublet, and then seizing a beautifully-wrought brass casket, that stood beneath the table, he swept the jewels in, secured it, and strapped it to his belt.
This brisk and important little affair being over, he arose to go, and in turning, saw the skeleton porter standing in the door-way, looking on in speechless dismay.
"It's all right my ancient friend!" observed Sir Norman, gravely.
"These papers must go before the king, and these jewels to their proper owner.""Their proper owner!" repeated the old man, shrilly; "that is La Masque.Thief-robber-housebreaker - stop!""My good old friend, you will do yourself a mischief if you bawl like that.Undoubtedly these things were La Masque's, but they are so no longer, since La Masque herself is among the things that were!""You shall not go!" yelled the old man, trembling with rage and anger."Help! help! help!""You noisy old idiot!" cried Sir Norman, losing all patience, "Iwill throw you out of the window if you keep up such a clamor as this.I tell you La Masque is dead!"At this ominous announcement, the ghastly porter fell back, and became, if possible, a shade more ghastly than was his wont.
"Dead and buried!" repeated Sir Norman, with gloomy sternness,"and there will be somebody else coming to take possession shortly.How many more servants are there here beside yourself?""Only one, sir - my wife Joanna.In mercy's name, sir, do not turn us out in the streets at this dreadful time!""Not I! You and your wife Joanna may stagnate here till you blue-mold, for me.But keep the door fast, my good old friend, and admit no strangers, but those who can tell you La Masque is dead!"With which parting piece of advice Sir Norman left the house, and joined George, who sat like an effigy before the door, in a state of great mental wrath, and who accosted him rather suddenly the moment be made his appearance.
"I tell you what, Sir Norman Kingsley, if you have many more morning calls to make, I shall beg leave to take my departure.
As it is, I know we are behind time, and his ma - the count, Imean, is not one who it accustomed or inclined to be kept waiting.""I am quite at your service now," said Sir Norman, springing on horseback; "so away with you, quick as you like."George wanted no second order.Before the words were well out of his companion's mouth, he was dashing away like a bolt from a bow, as furiously as if on a steeple-chase, with Sir Norman close at his heels; and they rode, flushed and breathless, with their steeds all a foaming, into the court-yard of the royal palace at Whitehall, just as the early rising sun was showing his florid and burning visage above the horizon.
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The court-yard, unlike the city streets, swarmed with busy life.
Pages, and attendants, and soldiers, moving hither and thither, or lounging about, preparing for the morning's journey to Oxford.
Among the rest Sir Norman observed Hubert, lying very much at his ease wrapped in his cloak, on the ground, and chatting languidly with a pert and pretty attendant of the fair Mistress Stuart.He cut short his flirtation, however, abruptly enough, and sprang to his feet as he saw Sir Norman, while George immediately darted off and disappeared from the palace.
"Am I late Hubert?" said his hurried questioner, as he drew the lad's arm within his own, and led him off out of hearing.
"I think not.The count," said Hubert, with laughing emphasis, "has not been visible since he entered yonder doorway, and there has been no message that I have heard of.Doubtless, now that George has arrived, the message will soon be here, for the royal procession starts within half an hour.""Are you sure there is no trick, Hubert? Even now he may be with Leoline!"Hubert shrugged his shoulders.
"He maybe; we must take our chance for that; but we have his royal word to the contrary.Not that I have much faith in that!"said Hubert.
"If he were king of the world instead of only England," cried Sir Norman, with flashing eyes, "he shall not have Leoline while Iwear a sword to defend her!"
