The Midnight Queen - Page 49/177

"What under heaven has come to her now?" he thought, hastening in,

wondering how she could possibly have come to grief since he left her.

She was sitting upright on the sofa, her dress palled down off her

shoulder where the plague-spot had been, and which, to his amazement, he

saw now pure and stainless, and free from every loathsome trace.

"You are cured of the plague!" was all he could say.

"Thank God!" she exclaimed, fervently clasping her hands. "But oh! how

can it have happened? It mast be a miracle!"

"No, it was your plunge into the river; I have heard of one or two such

cases before, and if ever I take it," said Ormiston, half laughing, half

shuddering, "my first rush shall be for old Father Thames. Here, drink

this, I am certain it will complete the cure."

The girl--she was nothing but a girl--drank it off and sat upright like

one inspired with new life. As she set down the glass, she lifted her

dark, solemn, beautiful eyes to his face with a long, searching gaze.

"What is your name?" she simply asked.

"Ormiston, madame," he said, bowing low.

"You have saved my life, have you not?"

"It was the Earl of Rochester who reserved you from the river; but I

would have done it a moment later."

"I do not mean that. I mean"--with a slight shudder--"are you not one of

those I saw at the plague-pit? Oh! that dreadful, dreadful plague-pit!"

she cried, covering her face with her hands.

"Yes. I am one of those."

"And who was the other?"

"My friend, Sir Norman Kingsley.

"Sir Norman Kingsley?" she softly repeated, with a sort of recognition

in her voice and eyes, while a faint roseate glow rose softly over

her face and neck. "Ah! I thought--was it to his house or yours I was

brought?"

"To his," replied Ormiston, looking at her curiously; for he had seen

that rosy glow, and was extremely puzzled thereby; "from whence, allow

me to add, you took your departure rather unceremoniously."

"Did I?" she said, in a bewildered sort of way. "It is all like a dream

to me. I remember Prudence screaming, and telling me I had the plague,

and the unutterable horror that filled me when I heard it; and then the

next thing I recollect is, being at the plague-pit, and seeing your face

and his bending over me. All the horror came back with that awakening,

and between it and anguish of the plague-sore I think I fainted again."

(Ormiston nodded sagaciously), "and when I next recovered I was alone in

a strange room, and in bed. I noticed that, though I think I must have

been delirious. And then, half-mad with agony, I got out to the street,

somehow and ran, and ran, and ran, until the people saw and followed me

here. I suppose I had some idea of reaching home when I came here; but

the crowd pressed so close behind, and I felt though all my delirium,

that they would bring me to the pest-house if they caught me, and

drowning seemed to me preferable to that. So I was in the river before

I knew it--and you know the rest as well as I do. But I owe you my life,

Mr. Ormiston--owe it to you and another; and I thank you both with all

my heart."