“If you cannot tell that, neither can I. If there is anything further you wish to see, I am quite willing to show it to you.”
“I'm obliged to you,” said Sir Norman, stepping back; “but no more at present, thank you. Do you mean to say, madam, that I'm some day to murder a lady, especially one so beautiful as she I just now saw?”
“I have said nothing—all you've seen will come to pass, and whether your destiny be for good or evil, I have nothing to do with it, except,” said the sweet voice, earnestly, “that if La Masque could strew Sir Norman Kingsley's pathway with roses, she would most assuredly do so.”
“Madam, you are too kind,” said that young gentleman, laying his hand on his heart, while Ormiston scowled darkly—“more especially as I've the misfortune to be a perfect stranger to you.”
“Not so, Sir Norman. I have known you this many a day; and before long we shall be better acquainted. Permit me to wish you good evening!”
At this gentle hint, both gentlemen bowed themselves out, and soon found themselves in the street, with very different expressions of countenance. Sir Norman looking considerably pleased and decidedly puzzled, and Mr. Ormiston looking savagely and uncompromisingly jealous. The animated skeleton who had admitted them closed the door after them; and the two friends stood in the twilight on London Bridge.
CHAPTER II. THE DEAD BRIDE
“Well,” said Ormiston, drawing a long bath, “what do you think of that?”
“Think? Don't ask me yet.” said Sir Norman, looking rather bewildered. “I'm in such a state of mystification that I don't rightly know whether I'm standing on my head or feet. For one thing, I have come to the conclusion that your masked ladylove must be enchantingly beautiful.”