“See, see, Elvira! dost thou not see his eyes sparkling in the darkness? I see his white teeth as he smiles mockingly!”
“Ernani! Ernani! I am terror-stricken!”
He looked quickly at her, as though he would confide in her some great terror. Then a world of pity flooded his face, and he said quickly—
’Twas an old wound, Elvira, which leapt in pain. “Leave me a little, love; I’ll come to thee soon.”
“A loving wife doth lovingly obey. I go.”
He followed her with his eyes till he could see her no longer, in the moon-light, and then he knew he was alone with death. Yet for a moment hope sprang up; the sound was surely fancy; the dread of what might be. He was so little used to joy that now it was come he could not believe in it. So he let go the dagger he had touched; and rising, prepared to follow his bride.
Then again came the wailing sound, and following it were whispered the mocking words—
“Take thou this horn—when from it sounds a blast
’Twill tell Ernani that his days are past.”
“Mercy!”
Creeping through the moonlight came the mysterious masquer—his face seen now to be the unforgiving, revengeful face of Don Ruy, come to seek atonement for the loss of a bride, and to demand the fulfilment of a rash oath.