CHAPTER XIII. ESCAPED.
Probably not one of you; my dear friends, who glance graciously overthis, was ever shut up in a dungeon under expectation of bearing theunpleasant operation of decapitation within half an hour. It neverhappened to myself, either, that I can recollect; so, of course, youor I personally can form no idea what the sensation may be like; butin this particular case, tradition saith Sir Norman Kingsley's stateof mind was decidedly depressed. As the door shut violently, he leanedagainst it, and listened to his jailers place the great bars into theirsockets, and felt he was shut in, in the dreariest, darkest, dismalest,disagreeablest place that it had ever been his misfortune to enter.He thought of Leoline, and reflected that in all probability she wassleeping the sleep of the just--perhaps dreaming of him, and littleknowing that his head was to be cut off in half an hour.
In course of time morning would come--it was not likely the ordinarycourse of nature would be cut off because he was; and Leoline would getup and dress herself, and looking a thousand times prettier than ever,stand at the window and wait for him. Ah! she might wait--much goodwould it do her; about that time he would probably be--where? It was arather uncomfortable question, but easily answered, and depressed him toa very desponding degree indeed.
He thought of Ormiston and La Masque--no doubt they were billing andcooing in most approved fashion just then, and never thinking of him;though, but for La Masque and his own folly, he might have been halfmarried by this time. He thought of Count L'Estrange and Master Hubert,and become firmly convinced, if one did not find Leoline the otherwould; and each being equally bad, it was about a toss up in agony whichgot her.
He thought of Queen Miranda, and of the adage, "put no trust inprinces," and sighed deeply as he reflected what a bad sign of humannature it was--more particularly such handsome human nature--that shecould, figuratively speaking, pat him on the back one moment, and kickhim to the scaffold the next. He thought, dejectedly, what a fool hewas ever to have come back; or even having come back, not to havetaken greater pains to stay up aloft, instead of pitching abruptlyhead-foremost into such a select company without an invitation. Hethought, too, what a cold, damp, unwholesome chamber they had lodged himin, and how apt he would be to have a bad attack of ague and miasmaticfever, if they would only let him live long enough to enjoy thoseblessings. And this having brought him to the end of his melancholymeditation, he began to reflect how he could best amuse himself inthe interim, before quitting this vale of tears. The candle was stillblinking feebly on the floor, shedding tears of wax in its feebleprostration, and it suddenly reminded him of the dwarf's advice toexamine his dark bower of repose. So he picked it up and snuffed it withhis fingers, and held it aloof, much as Robinson Crusoe held the brandin the dark cavern with the dead goat.
In the velvet pall of blackness before alluded to, its small, wan raypierced but a few inches, and only made the darkness visible. But SirNorman groped his way to the wall, which he found to be all over greenand noisome slime, and broken out into a cold, clammy perspiration, asthough it were at its last gasp. By the aid of his friendly light, forwhich he was really much obliged--a fact which, had his little friendknown, he would not have left it--he managed to make the circuit of hisprison, which he found rather spacious, and by no means uninhabited; forthe walls and floor were covered with fat, black beetles, wholefamilies of which interesting specimens of the insect-world he crunchedremorselessly under foot, and massacred at every step; and great,depraved-looking rats, with flashing eyes and sinister-teeth, who madefrantic dives and rushes at him, and bit at his jack-boots with fierce,fury. These small quadrupeds reminded him forcibly of the dwarf,especially in the region of the eyes and the general expression ofcountenance; and he began to reflect that if the dwarf's soul (supposinghim to possess such an article as that, which seemed open to debate)passed after death into the body of any other animal, it would certainlybe into that of a rat.
He had just come to this conclusion, and was applying the flame of thecandle to the nose of an inquisitive beetle, when it struck him heheard voices in altercation outside his door. One, clear, ringing, andimperious, yet withal feminine, was certainly not heard for the firsttime; and the subdued and respectful voices that answered, were those ofhis guards.
After a moment, he heard the sound of the withdrawing bolts, and hisheart beat fast. Surely, his half-hour had not already expired; andif it had, would she be the person to conduct him to death? The dooropened; a puff of wind extinguished his candle, but not until he hadcaught the glimmer of jewels, the shining of gold, and the flutter oflong, black hair; and then some one came in. The door was closed; thebolts shot back!--and he was alone with Miranda, the queen.
There was no trouble about recognising her, for she carried in her handa small lamp, which she held up between them, that its rays might falldirectly on both faces. Each was rather white, perhaps, and oneheart was going faster than it had ever gone before, and that one wasdecidedly not the queen's. She was dressed exactly as he had seen her,in purple and ermine, in jewels and gold; and strangely out of place shelooked there, in her splendid dress and splendid beauty, among the blackbeetles and rats. Her face might have been a dead, blank wall, or cutout of cold, white stone, for all it expressed; and as she lightly heldup her rich robes in one hand, and in the other bore the light, thedark, shining eyes were fixed on his face, and were as barren ofinterest, eagerness, compassion, tenderness, or any other feeling, asthe shining, black glass ones of a wax doll. So they stood looking ateach other for some ten seconds or so, and then, still looking full athim, Miranda spoke, and her voice was as clear and emotionless as hereyes,
"Well, Sir Norman Kingsley, I have come to see you before you die."
"Madame," he stammered, scarcely knowing what he said, "you are kind."
"Am I? Perhaps you forget I signed your death-warrant."
"Probably it would have been at the risk of your own life to refuse?"
"Nothing of the kind! Not one of them would hurt a hair of my head if Irefused to sign fifty death-warrants! Now, am I kind?"
"Very likely it would have amounted to the same thing in the end--theywould kill me whether you signed it or not; so what does it matter?"
"You are mistaken! They would not kill you; at least, not tonight, ifI had not signed it. They would have let you live until their nextmeeting, which will be this night week; and I would have incurredneither risk nor danger by refusing."
Sir Norman glanced round the dungeon and shrugged his shoulders.
"I do not know that that prospect is much more inviting than the presentone. Even death is preferable to a week's imprisonment in a place likethis."
"But in the meantime you might have escaped."
"Madame, look at this stone floor, that stone roof, these solid walls,that barred and massive door; reflect that I am some forty feet underground--cannot perform impossibilities, and then ask yourself how?"
"Sir Norman, have you ever heard of good fairies visiting brave knightsand setting them free?"
Sir Norman smiled.
"I am afraid the good fairies and brave knights went the way ofall flesh with King Arthur's round table; and even if they were inexistence, none of them would take the trouble to limp down so far tosave such an unlucky dog as I."
"Then you forgive me for what I have done?"
"Your majesty, I have nothing to forgive."
"Bah!" she said, scornfully. "Do not mock me here. My majesty, forsooth!you have but fifteen minutes to live in this world, Sir Norman; andif you have no better way of spending them, I will tell you a strangestory--my own, and all about this place."
"Madame, there is nothing in the world I would like so much to hear."
"You shall hear it, then, and it may beguile the last slow moments oftime before you go out into eternity."
She set her lamp down on the floor among the rats and beetles, and stoodwatching the small, red flame a moment with a gloomy, downcast eye; andSir Norman, gazing on the beautiful darkening f
ace, so like and yet sounlike Leoline, stood eagerly awaiting what was to come.
Meantime, the half-hour sped. In the crimson court the last trial wasover, and Lady Castlemaine, a slender little beauty of eighteen stoodcondemned to die.
"Now for our other prisoner!" exclaimed the dwarf with sprightlyanimation; "and while I go to the cell, you, fair ladies, and you mylord, will seek the black chamber and await our coming there."
Ordering one of his attendants to precede him with a light, the dwarfskipped jauntily away, to gloat over his victim. He reached the dungeondoor, which the guards, with some trepidation in their countenance, asthey thought of what his highness would say when he found her majestylocked in with the prisoner, threw open.
"Come forth, Sir Norman Kingsley!" shouted the dwarf, rushing in. "Comeforth and meet your doom!"
But no Sir Norman Kingsley obeyed the pleasant invitation, and a dullecho from the darkness alone answered him. There was a lamp burning onthe floor, and near it lay a form, shining and specked with white in thegloom. He made for it between fear and fury, but there was somethingred and slippery on the ground, in which his foot slipped, and hefell. Simultaneously there was a wild cry from the two guards and theattendant, that was echoed by a perfect screech of rage from the dwarf,as on looking down he beheld Queen Miranda lying on the floor in thepool of blood, and apparently quite dead, and Sir Norman Kingsley gone.