"I comprehend," cried Clara eagerly; "but the poor old duke, and Sir Ambrose?"?
"Their anxiety and distress may be great, but cannot be lasting: the feelings of age are blunt, and—"
"Oh, no!" exclaimed Clara, "you are deceived;—nay, I think that age feels grief more acutely than youth. The mind has lost its elasticity—hope is dead within it, and the old brood over their secret sorrow till they destroy their—"
"By Osiris! thou art a most extraordinary girl," said Cheops; "the old do brood over grief, but why say this to me? Do I not know it well—too well?" continued he, looking at her earnestly. Clara turned pale, and trembled—he saw her agitation; and, hastily averting his eyes, continued in a calmer tone,—"Whatever the sufferings of the old men may be for the moment, I suppose even you will allow the life of Elvira more than counterbalances them;—and, by inflicting this temporary pain, you will save them from the more lasting agony they would endure from her death: for Father Morris is so subtle, that it would be dangerous to give them the slightest hint of our intention, lest he should worm it from them. Be ready then, Clara; resign thyself to my instructions, and, above all, fear not."
Clara bent her head in token of assent, and Cheops disappeared. Upon examining the clothes, Clara found them to be the dress of a Greek peasant boy, numbers of whom at this period were rambling over England singing wild romances to their harps or lutes, and telling fortunes in a kind of doggerel rhyme. Exposure to the air tanned most of these wandering minstrels brown, and Clara found a bottle of liquid in the parcel to stain her face and hands. She bound up her flaxen ringlets, and, covering her head with curls of a jetty blackness, she found the metamorphosis so complete that she scarcely knew herself as she saw her figure reflected in a large mirror behind her. It was now nearly dark, but Cheops had left the necessary implements for striking a light, and Clara made her toilette without the least difficulty.
Anxious were the moments, however, that passed after her task was completed, till the arrival of Cheops; and when he did come, she saw he was attired as herself. He grasped her arm, and without speaking led her to the banks of the river. Clara shuddered as she found herself alone in the power of this mysterious being, and saw the river roll deep and dark beneath her feet. Cheops felt her shudder, and cried with one of his horrid laughs, which sounded fearfully amidst the stillness of the night, "What! do even you fear me? Is there no courage in this degenerate race? None? What do you fear? If you dread to trust yourself in my power, or think yourself unequal to the task you have undertaken, retire: there is yet time, and I wish no unwilling agents. Poor child!" continued he, looking at her with feeling; "thou dost not know me, but for worlds I would not harm thee!"
"I will go with you," said Clara resolutely; "I do not shrink. Let what will await me, I will not recede: though unheard-of torments may attend me, I will endure them."
"By the Holy Gods of my forefathers," cried Cheops, "she is a brave girl! Yes, Clara, I will trust thee; and though we should encounter horrors fearful as those which menace the initiati in the dread Isian mysteries, I will not doubt thy courage. A determined spirit, Clara, may subdue even Fate."
As he spoke, he threw the clothes she had brought for the purpose carelessly upon the banks of the river; and then again seizing her arm, he dragged her forward with such rapidity, that in an incredibly short time they approached the palace of Rosabella. The mansion looked the region of enchantment. Brilliantly illuminated, light streamed from every window; and through the colonnade of the great hall, groups of elegantly dressed people were seen gaily moving to and fro, some dancing, and others listening to harmonious music.
Clara, though terrified and exhausted, felt still irresistibly impelled to proceed, and, still guided by her strange companion, entered, unobserved, the outer court of the palace.