"They call me Hubert--for want of a better name, I suppose," said
the lad, easily. "And may I ask, Sir Norman, if you are shod with
seven-leagued boots, or if your errand is one of life and death, that
you stride along at such a terrific rate?"
"And what is that to you?" asked Sir Norman, indignant at his
free-and-easy impudence.
"Nothing; only I should like to keep up with you, if my legs were long
enough; and as they're not, and as company is not easily to be had in
these forlorn streets, I should feel obliged to you if you would just
slacken your pace a trifle, and take me in tow."
The boy's face in the moonlight, in everything but expression, was
exactly that of Leoline, to which softening circumstance may be
attributed Sir Norman's yielding to the request, and allowing the page
to keep along side.
"I've met you once before to-night?" inquired Sir Norman, after a
prolonged and wondering stare at him.
"Yes; I have a faint recollection of seeing you and Mr. Ormiston on
London Bridge, a few hours ago, and, by the way, perhaps I may mention I
am now in search of that same Mr. Ormiston."
"You are! And what may you want of him, pray?"
"Just a little information of a private character--perhaps you can
direct me to his whereabouts."
"Should be happy to oblige you, my dear boy, but, unfortunately, I
cannot. I want to see him myself, if I could find any one good enough to
direct me to him. Is your business pressing?"
"Very--there is a lady in the case; and such business, you are aware,
is always pressing. Probably you have heard of her--a youthful angel,
in virgin white, who took a notion to jump into the Thames, not a great
while ago."
"Ah!" said Sir Norman, with a start that did not escape the quick eyes
of the boy. "And what do you want of her?"
The page glanced at him.
"Perhaps you know her yourself, sir Norman? If so, you will answer quite
as well as your friend, as I only want to know where she lives."
"I have been out of town to-night," said Sir Norman, evasively, "and
there may have been more ladies than one jumped into the Thames, daring
my absence. Pray, describe your angel in white."
"I did not notice her particularly myself," said the boy, with easy
indifference, "as I am not in the habit of paying much attention
to young ladies who run wild about the streets at night and jump
promiscuously into rivers. However, this one was rather remarkable, for
being dressed as a bride, having long black hair, and a great quantity
of jewelry about her, and looking very much like me. Having said she
looks like me, I need not add she is handsome."