"Have you seen him?" asked Meg, rather astonished that Dan had said nothing to her about it.
"Yes, yes! The other day! Did he not tell you? I have had the portrait taken from the gallery and placed in a room. It looks splendid, child! Sir Alurde is a king among men. Come and see him."
She sprang up from the couch, and seized a candle from one of the sconces. Meg tried to restrain her; but Miss Linisfarne insisted in going. In order to humour her, and in the hope that she might afterwards be more amenable to reason, Meg agreed to accompany her; and, with Miss Linisfarne leading the way, and bearing the candle, they left the drawing-room. Meg had no idea that the woman was mad, as she had no experience of lunacy. She certainly thought her conduct strange, but felt no fear, and humoured her as she would a child. Had she only guessed the truth, what horrors might have been averted!
Up the stairs went Miss Linisfarne, chuckling over the success of her strategy. She led Meg far away from the inhabited portion of the house to the west wing, which was shut up and barred. Evidently she had been there lately, for a bunch of keys hung at her girdle, and with one of these she unlocked the doors. In the darkness only made more profound by the glimmer of that one candle, Meg began to feel a little afraid.
"Where are you taking me to, Miss Linisfarne?" she said, shrinking back.
"To see Sir Alurde's portrait! It is only a little way now! Come, child! Come, I say!" she added, savagely seizing the girl's wrist. "You must see my wedding present. Ah, my dear, a bonny bride you will make!"
Now, thoroughly terrified, Meg strove to release herself from the clutch of her hostess, as she felt certain that something was wrong. But Miss Linisfarne now had the strength of madness in her, and hurried the girl along recklessly. The walls of the passage were hung with faded arras, that bellied out with the wind. In the dim light of the one candle the figures of huntsman and hawk and hound and tree started out grotesquely. Meg would have fled, but could not get away. Still retaining her presence of mind, she did not scream, but waited for the first opportunity to escape.
Miss Linisfarne asked Meg to hold the candle, and, still clutching the girl's wrist, unlocked a door on the right. When it opened a breath of chill air swept out. Pushing Meg in, she followed, and they found themselves in a chamber of no great size, with one barred window. Against the wall rested a picture in its gold frame.
"See, see! Sir Alurde's portrait! Your lover's portrait! My wedding present," cried Miss Linisfarne, snatching the candle from the girl. "Look, child--look at him now!"
Meg uttered a cry of alarm! The picture was cut to pieces in the most savage manner. She turned to fly, but Miss Linisfarne was before her. With a jeering laugh she hurried out, and shut the door. Meg heard the key turn in the lock, and then the voice of the woman, whom she now knew was mad.