The Midnight Queen by May Agnes Fleming (best books under 200 pages txt) 📖

He gave up his doctoring, at last, in despair, and folding his arms, looked down at what lay on the table, and tried to convince himself that it was Ormiston. So absorbed was he in the endeavor, that he heeded not the passing moments, until it struck him with a shock that Hubert might even now be waiting for him at the trysting-place, with news of Leoline. Love is stronger than friendship, stronger than grief, stronger than death, stronger than every other feeling in the world; so he suddenly seized his hat, turned his back on Ormiston and the apothecary's shop, and strode oft to the place he had quitted.

No Hubert was there, but two figures were passing slowly along in the moonlight, and one of them he recognized, with an impulse to spring at him like a tiger and strangle him. But he had been so shocked and subdued by his recent discovery, that the impulse which, half an hour before, would have been unhesitatingly obeyed, went for nothing, now; and there was more of reproach, even, than anger in his voice, as he went over and laid his hand on the shoulder of one of them.

"Stay!" he said. "One word with you, Count L'Estrange. What have you done with Leoline!"

"Ah! Sir Norman, as I live!" cried the count wheeling round and lifting his hat. "Give me good even--or rather, good morning--Kingsley, for St. Paul's has long gone the midnight hour."

Sir Norman, with his hand still on his shoulder, returned not the courtesy, and regarding the gallant count with a stern eye.

"Where is Leoline?" he frigidly repeated.

"Really," said the count, with some embarrassment, "you attack me so unexpectedly, and so like a ghost or a highwayman--by the way I have a word to say to you about highwaymen, and was seeking you to say it."

"Where is Leoline?" shouted the exasperated young knight, releasing his shoulder, and clutching him by the throat. "Tell me or, by Heaven! I'll pitch you neck and heels into the Thames!"

Instantly the sword of the count's companion flashed in the moonlight, and, in two seconds more, its blue blade would have ended the earthly career of Sir Norman Kingsley, had not the count quickly sprang back, and made a motion for his companion to hold.

"Wait!" he cried, commandingly, with his arm outstretched to each. "Keep off! George, sheathe your sword and stand aside. Sir Norman Kingsley, one word with you, and be it in peace."

"There can be no peace between us," replied that aggravated young gentleman, fiercely "until you tell me what has become of Leoline."

"All in good time. We have a listener, and does it mot strike you our conference should be private!"

"Public or private, it matters not a jot, so that you tell me what you've done with Leoline," replied Sir Norman, with whom it was evident getting beyond this question was a moral and physical impossibility. "And if you do not give an account of yourself, I'll run you through as sure as your name is Count L'Estrange!"

A strange sort of smile came over the face of the count at this direful threat, as if he fancied in that case, he was safe enough; but Sir Norman, luckily, did not see it, and heard only the suave reply:

"Certainly, Sir Norman; I shall be delighted to do so. Let us stand over there in the shadow of that arch; and, George, do you remain here within call."

The count blandly waved Sir Norman to follow, which Sir Norman did, with much the mein of a sulky lion; and, a moment after, both were facing each other within the archway.

"Well!" cried the young knight, impatiently; "I am waiting. Go on!"

"My dear Kingsley," responded the count, in his easy way, "I think you are laboring under a little mistake. I have nothing to go on about; it is you who are to begin the controversy."

"Do you dare to play with me?" exclaimed Sir Norman, furiously. "I tell you to take care how you speak! What have you done with Leoline?"

"That is the fourth or fifth time that you've asked me that question," said the count, with provoking indifference. "What do you imagine I have done with her?"

Sir Norman's feelings, which had been rising ever since their meeting, got up to such a height at this aggravating question, that he gave vent to an oath, and laid his hand on him sword; but the count's hand lightly interposed before it came out.

"Not yet, Sir Norman. Be calm; talk rationally. What do you accuse me of doing with Leoline?"

"Do you dare deny having carried her off?"

"Deny it? No; I am never afraid to father my own deeds."

"Ah!" said Sir Norman grinding his teeth. "Then you acknowledge it?"

"I acknowledge it--yes. What next?"

The perfect composure of his tone fell like a cool, damp towel on the fire of Sir Norman's wrath. It did not quite extinguish the flame, however--only quenched it a little--and it still hissed hotly underneath.

"And you dare to stand before me and acknowledge such an act?" exclaimed Sir Norman, perfectly astounded at the cool assurance of the man.

"Verily, yea," said the count, laughing. "I seldom take the trouble to deny my acts. What next?"

"There is nothing next," said Sir Norman, severely, "until we have come to a proper understanding about this. Are you aware, sir, that that lady is my promised bride?"

"No, I do not know that I am. On the contrary, I have an idea she is mine."

"She was, you mean. You know she was forced into consenting by yourself and her nurse!"

"Still she consented; and a bond is a bond, and a promise a promise, all the world over."

"Not with a woman," said Sir Norman, with stern dogmatism. "It is their privilege to break their promise and change their mind sixty times an hour, if they choose. Leoline has seen fit to do both, and has accepted me in your stead; therefore I command you instantly to give her up!"

"Softly, my friend--softly. How was I to know all this?"

"You ought to have known it!" returned Sir Norman, in the same dogmatical way; "or if you didn't, you do now; so say no more about it. Where is she, I tell you?" repeated the young man, in a frenzy.

"Your patience one moment longer, until we see which of us has the best right to the lady. I have a prior claim."

"A forced one. Leoline does not care a snap far you--and she loves me."

"What extraordinary bad taste!" raid the count, thoughtfully. "Did she tell you that?"

"Yes; she did tell me this, and a great deal more. Come--have done talking, and tell me where she is, or I'll--"

"Oh, no, you wouldn't!" said the count, teasingly. "Since matters stand in this light I'll tell you what I'll do. I acknowledge that I carried off Leoline, viewing her as my promised bride, and have sent her to my own home in the care of a trusty messenger, where I give you my word of honor, I have not been since. She is as safe there, and much safer than in her own house, until morning, and it would be a pity to disturb her at this unseasonable hour. When the morning comes, we will both go to her together--state our rival claims--and whichever one she decides on accepting, can have her, and end the matter at once."

The count paused and meditated. This proposal was all very plausible and nice on the surface, but Sir Norman with his usual penetration and acuteness, looked farther than the surface, and found a flaw.

"And how am I to know," he asked, doubtingly, "that you will not go to her to-night and spirit her off where I will never hear of either of you again?"

"In the very best way in the world: we will not part company until morning comes, are we at peace?" inquired the count, smiling and holding out but hand.

"Until then, we will have to be, I suppose," replied Sir Norman, rather ungraciously taking the hand as if it were red-hot, and dropping it again. "And we are to stand here and rail at each other, in the meantime?"

"By no means! Even the most sublime prospect tires when surveyed too long. There is a little excursion which I would like you to accompany me on, if you have no objection."

"Where to?"

"To the ruin, where you have already been twice to-night."

Sir Norman stared.

"And who told you this fact, Sir Count?"

"Never mind; I have heard it. Would you object to a third excursion there before morning?"

Again Sir Norman paused and meditated. There was no use in staying where he was, that would bring him no nearer to Leoline, and nothing was to be gained by killing the count beyond the mere transitory pleasure of the thing. On the other hand, he had an intense and ardent desire to re-visit the ruin, and learn what had become of Miranda--the only draw-back being that, if they were found they would both be most assuredly beheaded. Then, again, there was Hubert.

"Well," inquired the count, as Sir Norman looked up.

"I have no objection to go with you to the ruin," was the reply, "only this; if we are seen there, we will be dead men two minutes after; and I have no desire to depart this life until I have had that promised interview with Leoline."

"I have thought of that," said the count, "and have provided for it. We may venture in the lion's den without the slightest danger: all that is required being your promise to guide us thither. Do you give it?"

"I do; but I expect a friend here shortly, and cannot start until he comes."

"If you mean me by that, I am here," said a voice at his elbow; and, looking round, he saw Hubert himself, standing there, a quiet listener and spectator of the scene.

Count L'Estrange looked at him with interest, and Hubert, affecting not to notice the survey, watched Sir Norman.

"Well," was that individual's eager address, "were you successful?"

The count was still watching the boy so intently, that that most discreet youth was suddenly seized with a violent fit of coughing, which precluded all possibility of reply for at least five minutes; and Sir Norman, at the same moment, felt his arm receive a sharp and warning pinch.

"Is this your friend?" asked the count. "He is a very small one, and seems in a bad state of health."

Sir Norman, still under the influence of the pinch, replied by an inaudible murmur, and looked with a deeply mystified expression, at Hubert.

"He bears a strong resemblance to the lady we were talking of a moment ago," continued the count--"is sufficiently like her, in fact, to be her brother; and, I see wears the livery of the Earl of Rochester."

"God spare you your eye-sight!" said Sir Norman, impatiently. "Can you not see, among the rest, that I have a few words to say to him in private? Permit us to leave you for a moment."

"There is no need to do so. I will leave you, as I have a few words to say to the person who is with me."

So saying the count walked away, and Hubert followed him with a most curious look.