Suddenly a little gasping cry broke from her, drowned by the sudden clamour that rose from below; for in the dim black surface of the ancient mirror she had distinctly seen the face of Leofric Wyvill form itself, and stand out distinct and clear!
CHAPTER XXVI.
PLOTS.
At the sound of Alys's cry Amalric and his sister turned quickly round, and the next moment a startled exclamation broke from young De Montfort.
"Leofric! is this truly thyself? or do we see thy ghost?"
Trembling in every limb, scarce able to separate the real from the unreal, Alys turned round to see that Amalric was grasping the hands of some person who had just opened the little door in the alcove, which was opposite the dusky mirror, and it dawned upon her that it was no phantom face she had seen, nor yet the freak of a disordered fancy; but that Leofric Wyvill was at Kenilworth, and standing within a few feet of her.
Yet for the moment he appeared not even aware of her presence. He was speaking with Amalric in low, constrained tones.
"Say only that I am not too late. The Earl, thy father, how is it with him?"
"Why, well," answered Amalric, in amaze; "thou canst see him below thine own self. Something aged and worn he is by the cares which press upon him; but for the rest, well. What do thy words portend, good friend?"