CHAPTER IX. LEOLINE.
In one instant Sir Norman was on his feet and his hand on his sword. Inthe tarry darkness, neither the face nor figure of the intruder could bemade out, but he merely saw a darker shadow beside him standing in thesea of darkness. Perhaps he might have thought it a ghost, but that thehand which grasped his shoulder was unmistakably of flesh, and blood,and muscle, and the breathing of its owner was distinctly audible by hisside.
"Who are you?" demanded Sir Norman, drawing out his sword, and wrenchinghimself free from his unseen companion.
"Ah! it is you, is it? I thought so," said a not unknown voice. "I havebeen calling you till I am hoarse, and at last gave it up, and startedafter you in despair. What are you doing here?"
"You, Ormiston!" exclaimed Sir Norman, in the last degree astonished."How--when--what are you doing here?"
"What are you doing here? that's more to the purpose. Down flat onyour face, with your head stuck through that hole. What is below there,anyway?"
"Never mind," said Sir Norman, hastily, who, for some reason quiteunaccountable to himself, did not wish Ormiston to see. "There's nothingtherein particular, but a lower range of vaults. Do you intend tellingme what has brought you here?"
"Certainly; the very fleetest horse I could find in the city."
"Pshaw! You don't say so?" exclaimed Sir Norman, incredulously. "ButI presume you had some object in taking such a gallop? May I ask what?Your anxious solicitude on my account, very likely?"
"Not precisely. But, I say, Kingsley, what light is that shining throughthere? I mean to see."
"No, you won't," said Sir Norman, rapidly and noiselessly replacing theflag. "It's nothing, I tell you, but a number of will-o-'wisps havinga ball. Finally, and for the last time, Mr. Ormiston, will you have thegoodness to tell me what has sent you here?"
"Come out to the air, then. I have no fancy for talking in this place;it smells like a tomb."
"There is nothing wrong, I hope?" inquired Sir Norman, following hisfriend, and threading his way gingerly through the piles of rubbish inthe profound darkness.
"Nothing wrong, but everything extremely right. Confound this place!It would be easier walking on live eels than through these winding andlumbered passages. Thank the fates, we are through them, at last! forthere is the daylight, or, rather the nightlight, and we have escapedwithout any bones broken."
They had reached the mouldering and crumbling doorway, shown by a squareof lighter darkness, and exchanged the damp, chill atmosphere of thevaults for the stagnant, sultry open air. Sir Norman, with a notion inhis head that his dwarfish highness might have placed sentinels aroundhis royal residence, endeavored to pierce the gloom in search of them.Though he could discover none, he still thought discretion the betterpart of valor, and stepped out into the road.
"Now, then, where are you going?" inquired Ormiston for, following him.
"I don't wish to talk here; there is no telling who may be listening.Come along."
Ormiston glanced back at the gloomy rain looming up like a black spectrein the blackness.
"Well, they must have a strong fancy for eavesdropping, I must say, whoworld go to that haunted heap to listen. What have you seen there, andwhere have you left your horse?"
"I told you before," said Sir Norman, rather impatiently, "that I haveseen nothing--at least, nothing you would care about; and my horse iswaiting me at the Golden Crown."
"Very well, we have no time to lose; so get there as fast as you can,and mount him and ride as if the demon were after you back to London."
"Back to London? Is the man crazy? I shall do no such thing, let me tellyou, to-night."
"Oh, just as you please," said Ormiston, with a great deal ofindifference, considering the urgent nature of his former request. "Youcan do as you like, you know, and so can I--which translated, means, Iwill go and tell her you have declined to come."
"Tell her? Tell whom? What are you talking about? Hang it, man!"exclaimed Sir Norman, getting somewhat excited and profane, "what areyou driving at? Can't you speak out and tell me at once?"
"I have told you!" said Ormiston, testily: "and I tell you again, shesent me in search of you, and if you don't choose to come, that's yourown affair, and not mine."
This was a little too much for Sir Norman's overwrought feelings, and inthe last degree of exasperation, he laid violent hands on the collar ofOrmiston's doublet, and shook him as if he would have shaken the nameout with a jerk.
"I tell you what it is, Ormiston, you had better not aggravate me! I canstand a good deal, but I'm not exactly Moses or Job, and you had bettermind what you're at. If you don't come to the point at once, and tellme who I she is, I'll throttle you where you stand; and so give youwarning."
Half-indignant, and wholly laughing, Ormiston stepped back out of theway of his excited friend.
"I cry you mercy! In one word, then, I have been dispatched by a lady insearch of you, and that lady is--Leoline."
It has always been one of the inscrutable mysteries in naturalphilosophy that I never could fathom, why men do not faint. Certain itis, I never yet heard of a man swooning from excess of surprise orjoy, and perhaps that may account for Sir Norman's not doing so on thepresent occasion. But he came to an abrupt stand-still in their rapidcareer; and if it had not been quite so excessively dark, his friendwould have beheld a countenance wonderful to look on, in its mixture ofutter astonishment and sublime consternation.
"Leoline!" he faintly gasped. "Just stop a moment, Ormiston, and saythat again--will you?"
"No," said Ormiston, hurrying unconcernedly on; "I shall do no suchthing, for there is no time to lose, and if there were I have no fancyfor standing in this dismal road. Come on, man, and I'll tell you as wego."
Thus abjured, and seeing there was no help for it, Sir Norman, in adazed and bewildered state, complied; and Ormiston promptly and brisklyrelaxed into business.
"You see, my dear fellow, to begin at the beginning, after you left, Istood at ease at La Masque's door, awaiting that lady's return, andwas presently rewarded by seeing her come up with an old woman calledPrudence. Do you recollect the woman who rushed screaming out of thehome of the dead bride?"
"Yes, yes!"
"Well, that was Prudence. She and La Masque were talking so earnestlythey did not perceive me, and I--well, the fact is, Kingsley, I stayedand listened. Not a very handsome thing, perhaps, but I couldn't resistit. They were talking of some one they called Leoline, and I, in amoment, knew that it was your flame, and that neither of them knew anymore of her whereabouts than we did."
"And yet La Masque told me to come here in search of her," interruptedSir Norman.
"Very true! That was odd--wasn't it? This Prudence, it appears, wasLeoline's nurse, and La Masque, too, seemed to have a certain authorityover her; and between them, I learned she was to have been married thisvery night, and died--or, at least, Prudence thought so--an hour or twobefore the time."
"Then she was not married?" cried Sir Norman, in an ecstasy of delight.
"Not a bit of it; and what is more, didn't want to be; and judging fromthe remarks of Prudence, I should say, of the two, rather preferred theplague."
"Then why was she going to do it? You don't mean to say she was forced?"
"Ah, but I do, though! Prudence owned it with the most charming candorin the world."
"Did you hear the name of the person she was to have married?" asked SirNorman, with kindling eyes.
"I think not; they called him the count, if my memory serves me, andPrudence intimated that he knew nothing of the melancholy fate ofMistress Leoline. Most likely it was the person in the cloak andslouched hat we saw talking to the watchman."
Sir Norman said nothing, but he thought a good deal, and the burden ofhis thoughts was an ardent and heartfelt wish that the Court L'Estrangewas once more under the swords of the three robbers, and waiting for himto ride to the rescue--that was all!
"La Masque urged Prudence to go back," continued Ormiston; "b
ut Prudencerespectfully declined, and went her way bemoaning the fate of herdarling. When she was gone, I stepped up to Madame Masque, and thatlady's first words of greeting were an earnest hope that I had beenedified and improved by what I had overheard."
"She saw you, then?" said Sir Norman.
"See me? I believe you! She has more eyes than ever Argus had, and eachone is as sharp as a cambric needle. Of course I apologized, and so on,and she forgave me handsomely, and then we fell to discoursing--need Itell you on what subject?"
"Love, of course," said Sir Norman.
"Yes, mingled with entreaties to take off her mask that would have moveda heart of stone. It moved what was better--the heart of La Masque; and,Kingsley, she has consented to do it; and she says that if, after seeingher face, I still love her, she will be my wife."
"Is it possible? My dear Ormiston, I congratulate you with all myheart!"
"Thank you! After that she left me, and I walked away in such a frenzyof delight that I couldn't have told whether I was treading this earthor the shining stars of the seventh heaven, when suddenly there flewpast me a figure all in white--the figure of a bride, Kingsley, pursuedby an excited mob. We were both near the river, and the first thing Iknew, she was plump into it, with the crowd behind, yelling to stop her,that she was ill of the plague."
"Great Heaven! and was she drowned?"
"No, though it was not her fault. The Earl of Rochester and hispage--you remember that page, I fancy--were out in their barge, andthe earl picked her up. Then I got a boat, set out after her, claimedher--for I recognized her, of course--brought her ashore, and depositedher safe and sound in her own house. What do you think of that?"
"Ormiston," said Norman, catching him by the shoulder, with a veryexcited face, "is this true?"
"True as preaching, Kingsley, every word of it! And the mostextraordinary part of the business is, that her dip in cold water haseffectually cured her of the plague; not a trace of it remains."
Sir Norman dropped his hand, and walked on, staring straight before him,perfectly speechless. In fact, no known language in the world could havedone justice to his feelings at that precise period; for three timesthat night, in three different shapes, had he seen this same Leoline,and at the same moment he was watching her decked out in royal state inthe rain, Ormiston had probably been assisting her from her cold bath inthe river Thames.
Astonishment and consternation are words altogether too feeble toexpress his state of mind; but one idea remained clear and bright amidall his mental chaos, and that was, that the Leoline he had fallen inlove with dead, was awaiting him, alive and well, in London.
"Well," said Ormiston, "you don't speak! What do you think of all this?"
"Think! I can't think--I've got past that long ago!" replied his friend,hopelessly. "Did you really say Leoline was alive and well?"
"And waiting for you--yes, I did, and I repeat it; and the sooner youget back to town, the sooner you will see her; so don't loiter--"
"Ormiston, what do you mean! Is it possible I can see her to-night?"
"Yes, it is; the dear creature is waiting for you even now. You see,after we got to the house, and she had consented to become a littlerational, mutual explanations ensued, by which it appeared she had ranaway from Sir Norman Kingsley's in a state of frenzy, had jumped intothe river in a similarly excited state of mind, and was most anxiousto go down on her pretty knees and thank the aforesaid Sir Norman forsaving her life. What could any one as gallant as myself do under thesecircumstances, but offer to set forth in quest of that gentleman? Andshe promptly consented to sit up and wait his coming, and dismissed mewith her blessing. And, Kingsley, I've a private notion she is as deeplyaffected by you as you are by her; for, when I mentioned your name, sheblushed, yea, verily to the roots of her hair; and when she spoke ofyou, couldn't so much as look me in the face--which is, you must own, avery bad symptom."
"Nonsense!" said Sir Norman, energetically. And had it been daylight,his friend would have seen that he blushed almost as extensively as thelady. "She doesn't know me."
"Ah, doesn't she, though? That shows all you know about it! She hasseen you go past the window many and many a time; and to see you," saidOrmiston, making a grimace undercover of the darkness, "is to love! Shetold me so herself."
"What! That she loved me!" exclaimed Sir Norman, his notions ofpropriety to the last degree shocked by such a revelation.
"Not altogether, she only looked that; but she said she knew you wellby sight, and by heart, too, as I inferred from her countenance whenshe said it. There now, don't make me talk any more, for I have told youeverything I know, and am about hoarse with my exertions."
"One thing only--did she tell you who she was?"
"No, except that her name was Leoline, and nothing else--which struck meas being slightly improbable. Doubtless, she will tell you everything,and one piece of advice I may venture to give you, which is, you maypropose as soon as you like without fear of rejection. Here we are atthe Golden Crown, so go in and get your horse, and let us be off."
All this time Ormiston had been leading his own horse by the bridle, andas Sir Norman silently complied with this suggestion, in five minutesmore they were in their saddles, and galloping at break-neck speed towardthe city. To tell the truth, one was not more inclined for silence thanthe other, and the profoundest and thoughtfulest silence was maintainedtill they reached it. One was thinking of Leoline, the other of LaMasque, and both were badly in love, and just at that particular momentvery happy. Of course the happiness of people in that state never lastslonger than half an hour at a stretch, and then they are plunged backagain into misery and distraction; but while it does last, it in, veryintense and delightful indeed.
Our two friends having drained the bitten, had got to the bottom of thecup, and neither knew that no sooner were the sweets swallowed, thanit was to be replenished with a doubly-bitter dose. Neither of themdismounted till they reached the house of Leoline, and there Sir Normansecured his horse, and looked up at it with a beating heart. Not thatit was very unusual for his heart to beat, seeing it never did anythingelse; but on that occasion its motion was so much accelerated, that anydoctor feeling his pulse might have justly set him down as a bad caseof heart-disease. A small, bright ray of light streamed like a beaconof hope from an upper window, and the lover looked at it as a cloudedmariner might at the shining of the North Star.
"Are you coming in, Ormiston?" he inquired, feeling, for the first timein his life, almost bashful. "It seems to me it would only be right, youknow."
"I don't mind going in and introducing` you," said Ormiston; "but afteryou have been delivered over, you may fight your own battles, and takecare of yourself. Come on."
The door was unfastened, and Ormiston sprang upstairs with the air of aman--quite at home, followed more decorously by Sir Norman. The doorof the lady's room stood ajar, as he had left it, and in answer to his"tapping at the chamber-door," a sweet feminine voice called "come in."
Ormiston promptly obeyed, and the next instant they were in the room,and in the presence of the dead bride. Certainly she did not look dead,but very much alive, just then, as she sat in an easy-chair, drawn upbefore the dressing-table, on which stood the solitary lamp that illumedthe chamber. In one hand she held a small mirror, or, as it was thencalled, a "sprunking-glass," in which she was contemplating her ownbeauty, with as much satisfaction as any other pretty girl might justlydo. She had changed her drenched dress during Ormiston's absence, andnow sat arrayed in a swelling amplitude of rose-colored satin, her darkhair clasped and bound by a circle of milk-white pearls, and her pale,beautiful face looking ten degrees more beautiful than ever, in contrastwith the bright rose-silk, shining dark hair, and rich white jewels. Sherose up as they entered, and came forward with the same glow on her faceand the same light in her eyes that one of them had seen before, andstood with drooping eyelashes, lovely as a vision in the centre of theroom.
"You see I have lost no time in obeying your ladys
hip's commands," beganOrmiston, bowing low. "Mistress Leoline, allow me to present Sir NormanKingsley."
Sir Norman Kingsley bent almost as profoundly before the lady asthe lord high chancellor had done before Queen Miranda; and the ladycourtesied, in return, until her pink-satin skirt ballooned out all overthe floor. It was quite an affecting tableau. And so Ormiston felt, ashe stood eyeing it with preternatural gravity.
"I owe my life to Sir Norman Kingsley," murmured the faint, sweet voiceof the lady, "and could not rest until I had thanked him. I have nowords to say how deeply thankful and grateful I am."
"Fairest Leoline! one word from such lips would be enough to repay me,had I done a thousandfold more," responded Norman, laying his hand onhis heart, with another deep genuflection.
"Very pretty indeed!" remarked Ormiston to himself, with a littleapproving nod; "but I'm afraid they won't be able to keep it up, and goon talking on stilts like that, till they have finished. Perhaps theymay get on all the better if I take myself off, there being always onetoo many in a case like this." Then aloud: "Madame, I regret that I amobliged to depart, having a most particular appointment; but, doubtless,my friend will be able to express himself without my assistance. I havethe honor to wish you both good-night."
With which neat and appropriate speech, Ormiston bowed himself out, andwas gone before Leoline could detain him, even if she wished to do so.Probably, however, she thought the care of one gentleman sufficientresponsibility at once; and she did not look very seriously distressedby his departure; and, the moment he disappeared, Sir Norman brightenedup wonderfully.
It is very discomposing to the feelings to make love in the presence ofa third party; and Sir Norman had no intention of wasting his time onanything, and went at it immediately. Taking her hand, with a gracethat would have beaten Sir Charles Grandison or Lord Chesterfield allto nothing, he led her to a couch, and took a seat as near her as wasat all polite or proper, considering the brief nature of theiracquaintance. The curtains were drawn; the lamp shed a faint light; thehouse was still, and there was no intrusive papa to pounce down uponthem; the lady was looking down, and seemed in no way haughtyor discouraging, and Sir Norman's spirits went up with a jump toboiling-point.
Yet the lady, with all her pretty bashfulness, was the first to speak.
"I'm afraid, Sir Norman, you must think this a singular hour to comehere; but, in these dreadful times, we cannot tell if we may live fromone moment to another; and I should not like to die, or have you die,without my telling, and you hearing, all my gratitude. For I doassure you, Sir Norman," said the lady, lifting her dark eyes with theprettiest and most bewitching earnestness, "that I am grateful, though Icannot find words to express it."
"Madame, I would not listen to you if you would; for I have done nothingto deserve thanks. I wish I could tell you what I felt when Ormistontold me you were alive and safe."
"You are very kind, but pray do not call me madame. Say Leoline!"
"A thousand thanks, dear Leoline!" exclaimed Sir Norman, raising herhand to his lips, and quite beside himself with ecstasy.
"Ah, I did not tell you to say that!" she cried, with a gay laugh andvivid blush. "I never said you were to call me dear."
"It arose from my heart to my lips," said Sir Norman, with thrillingearnestness and fervid glance; "for you are dear to me--dearer than allthe world beside!"
The flush grew a deeper glow on the lady's face; but, singular torelate, she did not look the least surprised or displeased; and the handhe had feloniously purloined lay passive and quite contented in his.
"Sir Norman Kingsley is pleased to jest," said the lady, in a subduedtone, and with her eyes fixed pertinaciously on her shining dress; "forhe has never spoken to me before in his life!"
"That has nothing to do with it, Leoline. I love you as devotedly as ifI had known you from your birthday; and, strange to say, I feel as if wehad been friends for years instead of minutes. I cannot realize at allthat you are a stranger to me!"
Leoline laughed:
"Nor I; though, for that matter, you are not a stranger to me, SirNorman!"
"Am I not? How is that!"
"I have seen you go past so often, you know; and Prudence told me whoyou were; and so I need--I used--" hesitating and glowing to a degreebefore which her dress paled.
"Well, dearest," said Sir Norman, getting from the positive to thesuperlative at a jump, and diminishing the distance between them, "youneed to--what?"
"To watch for you!" said Leoline, in a sly whisper. "And so I have gotto know you very well!"
"My own darling! And, O Leoline! may I hope--dare I hope--that you donot altogether hate me?"
Leoline looked reflective; though her bleak eyes were sparkling undertheir sweeping lashes.
"Why, no," she said, demurely, "I don't know as I do. It's very sinfuland improper to hate one's fellow-creatures, you know, Sir Norman, andtherefore I don't indulge in it."
"Ah! you are given to piety, I see. In that case, perhaps you are awareof a precept commanding us to love our neighbors. Now, I'm your nearestneighbor at present; so, to keep up a consistent Christian spirit, justbe good enough to say you love me!"
Again Leoline laughed; and this time the bright, dancing eyes beamed intheir sparkling darkness full upon him.
"I am afraid your theology is not very sound, my friend, and I havea dislike to extremes. There is a middle course, between hating andloving. Suppose I take that?"
"I will have no middle courses--either hating or loving it must be!Leoline! Leoline!" (bending over her, and imprisoning both hands thistime) "do say you love me!"
"I am captive in your hands, so I must, I suppose. Yes, Sir Norman, I dolove you!"
Every man hearing that for the first time from a pair of loved lipsis privileged to go mad for a brief season, and to go through certainmanoeuvers much more delectable to the enjoyers than to society atlarge. For fully ten minutes after Leoline's last speech, there wasprofound silence. But actions sometimes speak louder than words; andLeoline was perfectly convinced that her declaration had not fallen oninsensible ears. At the end of that period, the space between them onthe couch had so greatly diminished, that the ghost of a zephyr wouldhave been crushed to death trying to get between them; and Sir Norman'sface was fairly radiant. Leoline herself looked rather beaming; and shesuddenly, and without provocation, burst into a merry little peal oflaughter.
"Well, for two people who were perfect strangers to each other halfan hour ago, I think we have gone on remarkably well. What will Mr.Ormiston and Prudence say, I wonder, when they hear this?"
"They will say what is the truth--that I am the luckiest man in England.O Leoline! I never thought it was in me to love any one as I do you."'
"I am very glad to hear it; but I knew that it was in me long before Iever dreamed of knowing you. Are you not anxious to know something aboutthe future Lady Kingsley's past history?"
"It will all come in good time; it is not well to have a surfeit of joyin one night.
"I do not know that this will add to your joy; but it had better be toldand be done with, at once and forever. In the first place, I presume Iam an orphan, for I have never known father or mother, and I have neverhad any other name but Leoline."
"So Ormiston told me."
"My first recollection is of Prudence; she was my nurse and governess,both in one; and we lived in a cottage by the sea--I don't know where,but a long way from this. When I was about ten years old, we left it,and came to London, and lived in a house in Cheapside, for five or sixyears; and then we moved here. And all this time, Sir Norman you willthink it strange--but I never made any friends or acquaintances, andknew no one but Prudence and an old Italian professor, who came toour lodgings in Cheapside, every week, to give me lessons. It was notbecause I disliked society, you must know; but Prudence, with allher kindness and goodness--and I believe she truly loves me--has beennothing more or less all my life than my jailer."
She paused to clasp a belt of silver brocade,
fastened by a pearlbuckle, close around her little waist, and Sir Norman fixed his eyesupon her beautiful face, with a powerful glance.
"Knew no one--that is strange, Leoline! Not even the Count L'Estrange?"
"Ah! you know him?" she cried eagerly, lifting her eyes with a brightlook; "do--do tell me who he is?"
"Upon my honor, my dear," said Sir Norman, considerably taken aback,"it strikes me you are the person to answer that question. If I don'tgreatly mistake, somebody told me you were going to marry him."
"Oh, so I was," said Leoline, with the utmost simplicity. "But I don'tknow him, for all that; and more than that, Sir Norman, I do not believehis name is Count L'Estrange, any more than mine is!"
"Precisely my opinion; but why, in the name of--no, I'll not swear; butwhy were you going to marry him, Leoline?"
Leoline half pouted, and shrugged her pretty pink satin shoulders.
"Because I couldn't help it--that's why. He coaxed, and coaxed; and Isaid no, and no, and no, until I got tired of it. Prudence, too, was asbad as he was, until between them I got about distracted, and at lastconsented to marry him to get rid of him."
"My poor, persecuted little darling! Oh," cried Sir Norman, with a burstof enthusiasm, "how I should admire to have Count L'Estrange here forabout ten minutes, just now! I would spoil his next wooing for him, or Iam mistaken!"
"No, no!" said Leoline, looking rather alarmed; "you must not fight, youknow. I shouldn't at all like either of you to get killed. Besides, hehas not married me; and so there's no harm done."
Sir Norman seemed rather struck by that view of the case, and after afew moments reflection on it, came to the conclusion that she knew best,and settled down peaceably again.
"Why do you suppose his name is not Count L'Estrange?" he asked.
"For many reasons. First--he is disguised; wears false whiskers,moustache, and wig, and even the voice he uses appears assumed. ThenPrudence seems in the greatest awe of him, and she is not one to beeasily awed. I never knew her to be in the slightest degree intimidatedby any human being but himself and that mysterious woman, La Masque.
"Ah! you know La Masque, then?"
"Not personally; but I have seen her as I did you, you remember,"with an arch glance; "and, like you, being once seen, is not to beforgotten."
Sir Norman promptly paid her for the compliment in Cupid's own coin:
"Little flatterer! I can almost forgive Count L'Estrange for wantingto marry you; for I presume he it only a man, and not quite equal toimpossibilities. How long is it since you knew him first?"
"Not two months. My courtships," said Leoline, with a gay laugh, "seemdestined to be of the shortest. He saw me one evening in the window,and immediately insisted on being admitted; and after that, he continuedcoming until I had to promise, as I have told you, to be CountessL'Estrange."
"He cannot be much of a gentleman, or he would not attempt to force alady against her will. And so, when you were dressed for your bridal,you found you had the plague?"
"Yes, Sir Norman; and horrible as that was I do assure you I almostpreferred it to marrying him."
"Leoline, tell me how long it is since you've known me?"
"Nearly three months," said Leoline, blushing again celestial rosy red.
"And how long have you loved me?"
"Nonsense. What a question! I shall not tell you."
"You shall--you must--I insist upon it. Did you love me before you metthe count? Out with it."
"Well, then--yes!" cried Leoline desperately.
Sir Norman raised the hand he held, in rapture to his lips:
"My darling! But I will reserve my raptures, for it is growing late,and I know you must want to go to rest. I have a thousand things totell you, but they must wait for daylight; only I will promise, beforeparting, that this is the last night you must spend here."
Leoline opened her bright eyes very wide.
"To-morrow morning," went on Sir Norman, impressively, and with dignity,"you will be up and dressed by sunrise, and shortly after that radiantperiod, I will make my appearance with two horses--one of which I shallride, and the other I shall lead: the one I lead you shall mount, andwe will ride to the nearest church, and be married without any pomp orpageant; and then Sir Norman and Lady Kingsley will immediately leaveLondon, and in Kingsley Castle, Devonshire, will enjoy the honeymoon andblissful repose till the plague is over. Do you understand that?"
"Perfectly," she answered, with a radiant face.
"And agree to it?"
"You know I do, Sir Norman; only--"
"Well, my pet, only what?"
"Sir Norman, I should like to see Prudence. I want Prudence. How can Ileave her behind?"
"My dear child, she made nothing of leaving you when she thought youwere dying; so never mind Prudence, but say, will you be ready?"
"I will."
"That is my good little Leoline. Now give me a kiss, Lady Kingsley, andgood-night."
Lady Kingsley dutifully obeyed; and Sir Norman went out with a glow athis heart, like a halo round a full moon.