Who could it be? Not Count L'Estrange, for he would surely not need
to enter his own house like a burglar--not Sir Norman Kingsley, for he
could certainly not find out her abduction and her prison so soon, and
she had no other friends in the whole wide world to trouble themselves
about her. There was one, but the idea of ever seeing her again was so
unspeakably dreadful, that she would rather have seen the most horrible
spectre her imagination could conjure up, than that tall, graceful,
rich-robed form.
Still the noises perseveringly continued; there was the sound of
withdrawing bolts, and then a pale ray of moonlight shot between the
parted curtains, shoving the shutters had been opened. Whiter and whiter
Leoline grew, and she felt herself growing cold and rigid with mortal
fear. Softly the window was raised, a hand stole in and parted the
curtains, and a pale face and two great dark eyes wandered slowly round
the room, and rested at last on her, standing, like a galvanized corpse,
as far from the window as the wall would permit. The hand was lifted in
a warning gesture, as if to enforce silence; the window was raised still
higher, a figure, lithe and agile as a cat, sprang lightly into the
room, and standing with his back to her, re-closed the shutters, re-shut
the window, and re-drew the curtains, before taking the trouble to turn
round.
This discreet little manoeuvre, which showed her visitor was human, and
gifted with human prudence, re-assured Leoline a little; and, to judge
by the reverse of the medal, the nocturnal intruder was nothing
very formidable after all. But the stranger did not keep her long in
suspense; while she stood gazing at him, as if fascinated, he turned
round, stepped forward, took off his cap, made her a courtly bow,
and then straightening himself up, prepared, with great coolness, to
scrutinize and be scrutinized.
Well might they look at each other; for the two faces were perfectly the
same, and each one saw himself and herself as others saw them. There was
the same coal-black, curling hair; the same lustrous dark eyes; the
same clear, colorless complexion, the same delicate, perfect features;
nothing was different but the costume and the expression. That latter
was essentially different, for the young lady's betrayed amazement,
terror, doubt, and delight all at once; while the young gentleman's was
a grand, careless surprise, mixed with just a dash of curiosity.
He was the first to speak; and after they had stared at each other for
the space of five minutes, he described a graceful sweep with his hand,
and held forth in the following strain, "I greatly fear, fair Leoline, that I have startled you by my sudden and
surprising entrance; and if I have been the cause of a moment's alarm
to one so perfectly beautiful, I shall hate myself for ever after. If I
could have got in any other way, rest assured I would not have risked my
neck and your peace of mind by such a suspicious means of ingress as the
window; but if you will take the trouble to notice, the door is thick,
and I am composed of too solid flesh to whisk through the keyhole; so I
had to make my appearance the best way I could."