The advent of Queen Rosamond was heralded by music of a singular character. The softer and more melodious instrument ceased, and there arose a threnody drawn entirely from violin-chords and from the metallic wires of the harp—a threnody that was staccato, shivering, weird. The faint whisperings which had been going on here and there among the audience instantly ceased: every one sat spellbound, thrilled with awe by that unearthly music, as if it were a prelude to the entrance of Death himself.
Idris recognized the air as the requiem that was never heard except at the death of a Ravengar. That it should now be played seemed suggestive of some coming tragedy. He learned from Beatrice that this requiem had formed no part of the rehearsals: and, indeed, the wondering looks interchanged among the amateurs on the stage showed that it came upon them as a surprise. Idris was not slow to mark the perturbed air of the earl-bishop. If it were Lorelie's object to unnerve him, she had to some extent succeeded.
Amid this eerie refrain Queen Rosamond slowly entered the banqueting hall, carrying in her hands the dread cup, the fatal skull of her father Cunimund. The eyes of every one, both on and off the stage, were riveted upon her movements. She had exhibited splendid acting in the two previous scenes; was she now about to surpass herself?
She was robed in a vesture of violet satin, embroidered with gold, that shimmered as she moved; and in her flowing raven hair there gleamed an ornament that gave Idris a thrill of surprise, for he immediately recognized it as the stiletto hair-pin that had wrought the fatal deed in Ormfell.
By aid of the lorgnette he surveyed the object she was carrying. Yes: that golden-brown thing was indeed the 'Viking's skull,' set in silver, and mounted as a cup—a cup in appearance only, for the cranium was perfect and entire, and had not been fashioned into a lid.
Rosamond had entered through an arched door in the wall on the right-hand side of the stage. Ivar-Alboin's throne was on the extreme left, and therefore to reach him it was necessary to traverse the entire length of the stage.
Slowly, very slowly, she advanced with silent and majestic tread, holding aloft the fatal skull.
To Idris, the moment was one of thrilling interest. He felt that the crucial point of the experiment had come: the object for which Lorelie had caused her play to be staged was now about to be disclosed.
Not a word passed Lorelie's lips as she moved forward, the ghostly tremolo music going on all the time. She looked neither to right nor left: she had eyes for one person only, and that was the earl, and him she regarded with the air of a triumphant accuser.