‘Her eyes opened upon him. A convulsive heave of her panting breast, a sudden grasp of her false lover’s hand, and then a wring of bodily torture followed. The cold sweat of death was already upon these beautiful features. They were not in the least distorted. The hoofs of the horse had left their mark on the neck and bosom torn and bloody! She cast one look upon him, raised her head, and faintly muttered,
‘“William—am I faithful? Tell me so.”
‘She heard not the mad reply, and De Norris spoke to the dead!
‘His bride had fainted, and was, forthwith, carried to the hall. Hours had passed, and the retainers dared not approach their lord. But those stationed at the porch, at length beheld him approach, with the shattered corpse of Magdalene in his arms.
‘“My bridal couch! Shew me the way. Dost hear me, knave. Oh no, what sorry attendants on hymeneal delights!”
‘His bride met him. She kissed the cold features of the dead, and forgave the living. William knelt at the feet of his wife, and sought pardon for his treachery.
‘Again there were sounds of revelry, and by all, save the bridegroom, poor Magdalene was forgotten! To a late hour the banquet and the dance inspired them with pleasure, and wine and song made them gay and merry.
‘De Norris and his bride retired to their apartment. The tapers were extinguished, when a dim and beauteous light filled the room, and Magdalene stood at the foot of their couch, attired in the same dress as when William parted from her for the Holy Land. She stood, her fair hands clasped together, as if earnestly imploring them for some favour. Her air was slightly reproachful; but deep, unending love was expressed. De Norris, in tones of horror, addressed her,—
‘“Spirit of my Magdalene, why tormentest thou me and my innocent bride? I have been faithless, but she saved my life, and how could I repay her kindness, but with my heart’s love! Still Magdelene I have not forgotten you—nor can I ever!”
‘“William,” a low and sweet voice uttered, and De Norris felt a cold, yet loving kiss, upon his trembling lips—“William, grant me but one favour, and I will bless you both. My portrait, which hangs in the gallery, take it down, and every night when you retire to rest, oh! lay it between you! Do this William, and I am yours in the other world!”