"Well," said Ormiston, drawing a long bath, "what do you think of that?"

"Think? Don't ask me yet." said Sir Norman, looking rather bewildered.

"I'm in such a state of mystification that I don't rightly know whether

I'm standing on my head or feet. For one thing, I have come to the

conclusion that your masked ladylove must be enchantingly beautiful."

"Have I not told you that a thousand times, O thou of little faith? But

why have you come to such a conclusion?"

"Because no woman with such a figure, such a voice and such hands could

be otherwise."

"I knew you would own it some day. Do you wonder now that I love her?"

"Oh! as to loving her," said Sir Norman, coolly, "that's quite another

thing. I could no more love her or her hands, voice, and shape, than I

could a figure in wood or wax; but I admire her vastly, and think her

extremely clever. I will never forget that face in the caldron. It was

the most exquisitely beautiful I ever saw."

"In love with the shadow of a face! Why, you are a thousand-fold more

absurd than I."

"No," said Sir Norman, thoughtfully, "I don't know as I'm in love with

it; but if ever I see a living face like it, I certainly shall be. How

did La Masque do it, I wonder?"

"You had better ask her," said Ormiston, bitterly. "She seems to have

taken an unusual interest in you at first sight. She would strew your

path with roses, forsooth! Nothing earthly, I believe, would make her

say anything half so tender to me."

Sir Norman laughed, and stroked his moustache complacently.

"All a matter of taste, my dear fellow: and these women are noted for

their perfection in that line. I begin to admire La Masque more and

more, and I think you had better give up the chase, and let me take your

place. I don't believe you have the ghost of a chance, Ormiston."

"I don't believe it myself," said Ormiston, with a desperate face "but

until the plague carries me off I cannot give her up; and the sooner

that happens, the better. Ha! what is this?"

It was a piercing shriek--no unusual sound; and as he spoke, the door of

an adjoining house was flung open, a woman rushed wildly out, fled down

an adjoining street, and disappeared.

Sir Norman and his companion looked at each other, and then at the

house.

"What's all this about?" demanded Ormiston.

"That's a question I can't take it upon myself to answer," said Sir

Norman; "and the only way to solve the mystery, is to go in and see."

"It may be the plague," said Ormiston, hesitating. "Yet the house is not

marked. There is a watchman. I will ask him."




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