"How is that?" asked Drummond, drawing up a chair and seating himself in front of the fire, that, thanks to the exertions of Captain Campbell, was already burning brightly on the hearth.
"Why, to tell the truth, Aunt Moll and her hopeful son assert it to be haunted, as it most probably is by rats. If you are willing to trust yourself to the ghost's mercy, I can freely promise you safety from all other dangers."
"Haunted? By Jove, that's capital! I have been wishing all my life to see a genuine ghost, and lo! the time has come at last. But what manner of ghost is it, saith the legend—fair or foul, old or young, handsome or hideous?"
"On that point I am distressingly short of information. Lem's description is rather vague. He describes it as being 'higher than anything at all, with fire coming out of its eyes, long hair reaching to the ground, and dressed in white.'"
"Oh, of course!" said Drummond. "Who ever heard of a ghost that wasn't dressed in white? 'Pon my honor, I am quite enchanted at the opportunity of making the acquaintance of its ghostship."
During this conversation Sibyl had left the room "on hospitable thoughts intent," and now returned to announce that supper was already progressing rapidly—most welcome news to our hungry gentlemen.
Sibyl had taken off her hat, and now her raven curls fell in heavy tresses to her waist. In the shadow, those glittering ringlets looked intensely black; but where the firelight fell upon them, a sort of red light shone through.
As she moved through the high, shadowy rooms, with the graceful, airy motion that lent a charm to the commonest action, Willard Drummond, following her with his eyes, felt a secret sense of exultation, as he thought this magnificent creature was his, and his alone. This bright, impassioned sea-nymph; this beautiful, radiant daughter of a noble race; this royal, though dowerless island-queen, loved him above all created beings. Had she not told him as he whispered in her willing ear his passionate words of love, that he was dearer to her than all the world besides? Some day he would make her his wife, and take her with him to his princely home in Virginia; and he thought, with new exultation, of the sensation this glorious planet would make among the lesser stars of his native State.
So thought and argued Willard Drummond in the first flush and delirium of love.
He did not stop to think that he had loved with even more intensity once before; that he had raved even in a like manner of another far less bright than this queenly Sibyl. He did not stop to think that even so he might love again.