She insisted upon going immediately to the young man, asking Adrian to accompany her.
Lady Ruxley appeared to know the way perfectly; for, passing through Isabel’s room, she unbolted the door of the cell, and groped her way to the opposite side.
As she stepped upon that semi-circular block of stone, she explained the secret to Adrian, and bidding him follow her, she pressed her foot upon the bolt and disappeared. As soon as the shaft arose to its place, he followed immediately, and soon found himself standing by her side, in the room already described.
The young cripple was sleeping upon a couch, and had not heard them enter; but as Lady Ruxley stumped toward him with her cane, he started up, and regarded his strange visitors with amazement.
Lady Ruxley nearly shrieked aloud as she beheld his terrible deformity, but quickly recovering herself, she moved still nearer to him, and exclaimed, in her blunt way:
“Well, Herbert Randal, thank the Lord that you are at last born into the world!”
“Madam, are you—who are you?” he stammered, regarding her with nearly as much curiosity as she did him.
“I am a withered antediluvian, as you perceive, but the heart within me is sound yet, and capable of feeling for others’ woes, if not for others’ faults. I am Lady Ruxley, your mother’s aunt.”
“I have heard of you, and Miss Douglas said you were very kind,” he said, gently, and regarding her bent form with a pitying eye.
“Did she?” said her ladyship, eagerly, while her thin lips broke into a pleased smile. “Miss Douglas was a jewel.”