At the sight of him, Learmont uttered a cry of despair; but when Ada, fearful for Albert’s safety, was by his side in a moment, and Learmont met her gaze, his sword dropped from his grasp, and he could but totter backwards towards the conservatory, shrieking,—
“The dead—the dead—Gray next—and then—my brother—my murdered brother—”
With a heavy crash he fell just within the door of the conservatory, and was immediately seized by the officers of Sir Francis Hartleton, who himself turning on the steps, said,—
“I much grieve to have marred the mirth of this noble company, but I apprehend Squire Learmont, as a murderer—an assassin—a persecutor of the innocent—a reveller in the wealth of another. This young maiden, I here proclaim as heiress of the estates of Learmont.”
Ada shrunk back, as Sir Francis pointed to her, and leaning upon the arm of Albert, she sobbed as she said,—
“Oh, tell me, Albert, what is the meaning of all this fearful scene.”
“I have proof of the marriage of this lady’s mother with the elder brother Learmont, now in custody, from the Austrian ambassador,” said Sir Francis Hartleton. “His predecessor was present at the ceremony.”
“Ada,” cried Albert, rapturously. “Look up—my own Ada.”
“This,” said Sir Francis Hartleton, addressing her, “is your house. It is for you to make the company welcome, or not.”
Ada burst into tears, and was led down the steps by Albert and the magistrate, but scarcely had they entered the saloon, when the officers who captured Learmont, appeared at the top of the stairs with him. All eyes were fixed upon his face, which was livid and ghastly. He offered no opposition, but came down step-by step with an awful calmness, like one going to execution, who had long since bid adieu to hope. When he reached halfway, he paused, and extending both his arms, while his fingers pointed to Sir Francis Hartleton, he burst into such a frantic howling laugh, that the officers shrunk from him aghast. Then an awful spasm came across his face, and like a log, he fell upon the stairs.