"So she is not there," said Ormiston; "and our mysterious friend in
the cloak is as much at a loss as we are ourselves. Where shall we go
next--to La Masque or the peat-house?"
"To La Masque--I hate the idea of the pest-house!"
"She may be there, nevertheless; and under present circumstances, it is
the beat place for her."
"Don't talk of it!" said Sir Norman, impatiently. "I do not and will not
believe she is there! If the sorceress shows her to me in the caldron
again, I verily believe I shall jump in head foremost."
"And I verily believe we will not find La Masque at home. She wanders
through the streets at all hours, but particularly affects the night."
"We shall try, however. Come along!"
The house of the sorceress was but a short distance from that of
Sir Norman's plague-stricken lady-love's; and shod with a sort of
seven-league boots, they soon reached it. Like the other, it was all
dark and deserted.
"This is the home," said Ormiston, looking at it doubtfully, "but where
is La Masque?"
"Here!" said a silvery voice at his elbow; and turning round, they saw
a tall, slender figure, cloaked, hooded, and masked. "Surely, you two do
not want me again to-night?"
Both gentlemen doffed their plumed hats, and simultaneously bowed.
"Fortune favors us," said Sir Norman. "Yes, madam, it is even so; once
again to-night we would tax your skill."
"Well, what do you wish to know?"
"Madam, we are in the street."
"Sir, I'm aware of that. Pray proceed."
"Will you not have the goodness to permit us to enter?" said Sir Norman,
inclined to feel offended. "How can you tell us what we wish to know,
here?"
"That is my secret," said the sweet voice. "Probably Sir Norman Kingsley
wishes to know something of the fair lady I showed him some time ago?"
"Madam, you've guessed it. It is for that purpose I have sought you
now."
"Then you have seen her already?"
"I have."
"And love her?"
"With all my heart!"
"A rapid flame," said the musical voice, in a tone that had just a
thought of sarcasm; "for one of whose very existence you did not dream
two hours ago."
"Madame La Masque," said Norman, flushed sad haughty, "love is not a
question of time."
"Sir Norman Kingsley," said the lady, somewhat sadly, "I am aware of
that. Tell me what you wish to know, and if it be in my power, you shall
know it."
"A thousand thanks! Tell me, then, is she whom I seek living or dead?"
"She is alive."
"She has the plague?" said Sir Norman.
"I know it."
"Will she recover?"
"She will."
"Where is she now?"
La Masque hesitated and seemed uncertain whether or not to reply, Sir
Norman passionately broke in: "Tell me, madam, for I must know!"