The Midnight Queen, May Agnes Fleming [phonics books .txt] 📗

hero to free himself, and at last succeeded by an artful spring.

"Sir Norman Kingsley," he cried, keeping a safe yard or two of pavement between him and that infuriated young knight, "have you gone mad, or what, is Heaven's name, is the moaning of all this?"

"It means," exclaimed Sir Norman, drawing his sword, and flourishing it within an inch of the boy's curly head,--"that you'll be a dead page in less than half a minute, unless you tell me immediately where she has been taken to."

"Where who has been taken to?" inquired Hubert, opening his bright and indignant black eyes in a way that reminded Sir Norman forcibly of Leoline. "Pardon, monsieur, I don't understand at all."

"You young villain! Do you mean to stand up there and tell me to my face that you have not searched for her, and found her, and have carried her off?"

"Why, do you mean the lady we were talking of, that was saved from the river?" asked Hubert, a new light dawning upon him.

"Do I mean the lady we were talking of?" repeated Sir Norman, with another furious flourish of his sword. "Yes, I do mean the lady we were talking of; and what's more--I mean to pin you where you stand, against that wall, unless you tell me, instantly, where she has been taken."

"Monsieur!" exclaimed the boy, raising his hands with an earnestness there was no mistaking, "I do assure you, upon my honor, that I know nothing of the lady whatever; that I have not found her; that I have never set eyes on her since the earl saved her from the river."

The earnest tone of truth would, in itself, almost have convinced Sir Norman, but it was not that, that made him drop his sword so suddenly. The pale, startled face; the dark, solemn eyes, were so exactly like Leoline's, that they thrilled him through and through, and almost made him believe, for a moment, he was talking to Leoline herself.

"Are you--are you sure you are not Leoline?" he inquired, almost convinced, for an instant, by the marvelous resemblance, that it was really so.

"I? Positively, Sir Norman, I cannot understand this at all, unless you wish to enjoy yourself at my expense."

"Look here, Master Hubert!" said Sir Norman with a sudden change of look and tone. "If you do not understand, I shall just tell you in a word or two how matters are, and then let me hear you clear yourself. You know the lady we were talking about, that Lord Rochester picked up afloat, and sent you in search of?"

"Yes--yes."

"Well," went on Sir Norman, with a sort of grim stoicism. "After leaving you, I started on a little expedition of my own, two miles from the city, from which expedition I returned ten minutes ago. When I left, the lady was secure and safe in this house; when I came back, she was gone. You were in search of her--had told me yourself you were determined on finding her, and having her carried off; and now, my youthful friend, put this and that together," with a momentary returning glare, "and see what it amounts to!"

"It amounts to this:" retorted his youthful friend, stoutly, "that I know nothing whatever about it. You may make out a case of strong circumstantial evidence against me; but if the lady has been carried off, I have had no hand in it."

Again Sir Norman was staggered by the frank, bold gaze and truthful voice, but still the string was in a tangle somewhere.

"And where have you been ever since?" he began severely, and with the air of a lawyer about to go into a rigid cross-examination.

"Searching for her," was the prompt reply.

"Where?"

"Through the streets; in the pest-houses, and at the plague-pit."

"How did you find out she lived here?"

"I did not find it out. When I became convinced she was in none of the places I have mentioned, I gave up the search in despair, for to-night, and was returning to his lordship to report my ill success."

"Why, then, were you standing in front of her house, gaping at it with all the eyes in your head, as if it were the eighth wonder of the world?"

"Monsieur has not the most courteous way of asking questions, that I ever heard of; but I have no particular objection to answer him. It struck me that, as Mr. Ormiston brought the lady up this way, and as I saw you and he haunting this place so much to-night, I thought her residence was somewhere here, and I paused to look at the house as I went along. In fact, I intended to ask old sleepy-head, over there, for further particulars, before I left the neighborhood, had not you, Sir Norman, run bolt into me, and knocked every idea clean out of my head."

"And you are sure you are not Leoline?" said Sir Norman, suspiciously.

"To the best of my belief, Sir Norman, I am not," replied Hubert, reflectively.

"Well, it is all very strange, and very aggravating," said Sir Norman, sighing, and sheathing his sword. "She is gone, at all events; no doubt about that--and if you have not carried her off, somebody else has."

"Perhaps she has gone herself," insinuated Hubert.

"Bah! Gone herself!" said Sir Norman, scornfully. "The idea is beneath contempt: I tell you, Master Fine-feathers, the lady and I were to be married bright and early to-morrow morning, and leave this disgusting city for Devonshire. Do you suppose, then, she would run out in the small hours of the morning, and go prancing about the streets, or eloping with herself?"

"Why, of course, Sir Norman, I can't take it upon myself to answer positively; but, to use the mildest phrase, I must say the lady seems decidedly eccentric, and capable of doing very queer things. I hope, however, you believe me; for I earnestly assure you, I never laid eyes on her but that once."

"I believe you," said Sir Norman, with another profound and broken-hearted sigh, "and I'm only too sure she has been abducted by that consummate scoundrel and treacherous villain, Count L'Estrange."

"Count who?" said Hubert, with a quick start, and a look of intense curiosity. "What was the name?"

"L'Estrange--a scoundrel of the deepest dye! Perhaps you know him?"

"No," replied Hubert, with a queer, half musing smile, "no; but I have a notion I have heard the name. Was he a rival of yours?"

"I should think so! He was to have been married to the lady this very night!"

"He was, eh! And what prevented the ceremony?"

"She took the plague!" said Sir Norman, strange to say, not at all offended at the boy's familiarity. "And would have been thrown into the plague-pit but for me. And when she recovered she accepted me and cast him off!"

"A quick exchange! The lady's heart must be most flexible, or unusually large, to be able to hold so many at once."

"It never held him!" said Sir Norman, frowning; "she was forced into the marriage by her mercenary friends. Oh! if I had him here, wouldn't I make him wish the highwaymen had shot him through the head, and done for him, before I would let him go!"

"What is he like--this Count L'Estrange?" said Hubert, carelessly.

"Like the black-hearted traitor and villain he is!" replied Sir Norman, with more energy than truth; for he had caught but passing glimpses of the count's features, and those showed him they were decidedly prepossessing; "and he slinks along like a coward and an abductor as he is, in a slouched hat and shadowy cloak. Oh! if I had him here!" repeated Sir Norman, with vivacity; "wouldn't I--"

"Yes, of course you would," interposed Hubert, "and serve him right, too! Have you made any inquiries about the matter--for instance, of our friend sleeping the sleep of the just, across there?"

"No--why?"

"Why, it seems to me, if she's been carried off before he fell asleep, he has probably heard or seen something of it; and I think it would not be a bad plan to step over and inquire."

"Well, we can try," said Sir Norman, with a despairing face; "but I know it will end in disappointment and vexation of spirit, like all the rest!"

With which dismal view of things, he crossed the street side by side with his jaunty young friend. The watchman was still enjoying the balmy, and snoring in short, sharp snorts, when Master Hubert remorselessly caught him by the shoulder, and began a series of shakes and pokes, and digs, and "hallos!" while Sir Norman stood near and contemplated the scene with a pensive eye. At last while undergoing a severe course of this treatment the watchman was induced to open his eyes on this mortal life, and transfix the two beholders with, an intensely vacant and blank share.

"Hey?" he inquired, helplessly. "What was you a saying of, gentlemen? What is it?"

"We weren't a saying of anything as yet," returned Hubert; "but we mean to, shortly. Are you quite sure you are wide awake?"

"What do you want?" was the cross question, given by way of answer. "What do you come bothering me for at such a rate, all night, I want to know?"

"Keep civil, friend, we wear swords," said Hubert, touching, with dignity, the hilt of the little dagger he carried; "we only want to ask you a few questions. First, do you see that house over yonder?"

"Oh! I see it!" said the man gruffly; "I am not blind!"

"Well who was the last person you saw come out of that house?"

"I don't know who they was!" still more gruffly. "I ain't got the pleasure of their acquaintance!"

"Did you see a young lady come out of it lately?"

"Did I see a young lady?" burst out the watchman, in a high key of aggrieved expostulation. "How many more times this blessed night am I to be asked about that young lady. First and foremost, there comes two young men, which this here is one of them, and they bring out the young lady and have her hauled away in the dead-cart; then comes along another and wants to know all the particulars, and by the time he gets properly away, somebody else comes and brings her back like a drowned rat. Then all sorts of people goes in and out, and I get tired looking at them, and then fall asleep, and before I've been in that condition about a minute, you two come punching me and waken me up to ask questions about her! I wish that young lady was in Jerico--I do!" said the watchman, with a smothered growl.

"Come, come, my man!" said Hubert, slapping him soothingly on the shoulder. "Don't be savage, if you can help it! This gentleman has a gold coin in some of his pockets, I believe, and it will fall to you if you keep quiet and answer decently. Tell me how many have been in that house since the young lady was brought back like a drowned rat?"

"How many?" said the man, meditating, with his eyes fixed on Sir Norman's garments, and he, perceiving that, immediately gave him the promised coin to refresh his memory, which it did with amazing quickness. "How many--oh--let me see; there was the young man that brought her in, and left her there, and came out again, and went away. By-and-by, he came back