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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1700acd --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #60414 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/60414) diff --git a/old/60414-8.txt b/old/60414-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 2ea898e..0000000 --- a/old/60414-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,13268 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Viking's Skull, by John R. Carling - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll -have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using -this ebook. - - - -Title: The Viking's Skull - -Author: John R. Carling - -Release Date: October 3, 2019 [EBook #60414] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE VIKING'S SKULL *** - - - - -Produced by Tim Lindell, Martin Pettit and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - -The Viking's Skull - -[Illustration] - - - - -The Viking's Skull - -By -John R. Carling -_Author of "The Shadow of the Czar," etc., etc._ - -Boston -Little, Brown, and Company -1904 - - - - -_Copyright, 1903, 1904_ -BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. - -_All rights reserved_ - -Published March, 1904 - - -HUBLEY PRINTING CO. L'T'D -TYPESETTERS AND ELECTROTYPERS -YORK, PA., U. S. A. - -PRESSWORK BY -THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U. S. A. - - - - -Contents - - PROLOGUE - -CHAPTER PAGE - I. "THE ENGLISH LADY" 1 - - II. THE RUNIC RING 11 - - III. A RETROSPECT 18 - - IV. TRAGEDY! 26 - - - THE STORY - - I. THE RAVENGARS OF RAVENHALL 44 - - II. THE MYSTERY OF THE RELIQUARY 57 - - III. IDRIS REDIVIVUS 70 - - IV. THE SECRET OF THE RUNIC RING 82 - - V. "THE SHADOW OF THE OFT-CARRIED THRONE" 92 - - VI. "THE FIRES OF THE ASAS!" 106 - - VII. "WITHIN THE LOFTY TOMB" 119 - - VIII. LORELIE RIVIÈRE 132 - - IX. IDRIS MEETS A RIVAL 150 - - X. A LITTLE PIECE OF STEEL 165 - - XI. THE LEGEND OF THE RUNIC RING 178 - - XII. IDRIS DECLARES HIS LOVE 197 - - XIII. AT LORELIE'S VILLA 209 - - XIV. TOLD BY THE VASE 232 - - XV. A PACKET OF OLD LETTERS 245 - - XVI. LORELIE AT RAVENHALL 264 - - XVII. THE SECRET OF THE FUNERAL CRYPT 277 - -XVIII. A CRANIOLOGICAL EXPERIMENT 300 - - XIX. THE VENGEANCE OF THE SKULL 318 - - XX. FINALE 344 - - - - -List of Illustrations - - -"The humming sea, as if bent on securing its victims, -came foaming with threatening rapidity" _Frontispiece_ - -"A dagger flashed from beneath his cloak" _Page_ 33 - -"A cry of surprise, rather than of alarm, broke from -him, as he caught sight of a full-sized human skeleton -lying within" " 123 - -"'By the sacred ring of Odin, stolen by you from -Edith Breakspear, I adjure you, speak! Whose -skull is this?'" " 336 - - - - -THE VIKING'S SKULL - - - - -PROLOGUE - - - - -CHAPTER I - -"THE ENGLISH LADY" - - -On one of the granitic peninsulas of Western Brittany stands the -little town of Quilaix, situated in a hollow facing the sea. To the -ordinary tourist the place presents few features of interest beyond -its ivy-mantled church, whose doors bear the counterfeit presentment -of fishes carved in oak: which fact, when added to the name of the -edifice--_La Chapelle des Pêcheurs_--serves to indicate the general -occupation of the inhabitants. - -For the convenience of the fisher-folk an L-shaped stone pier has been -raised in the sea. The duty of watching over this structure, whose -stability was often threatened by the fury of the Atlantic, pertained -to Paul Marais, familiarly known as "Old Pol," who, to his office of -harbour-master added likewise that of collector of the customs. - -Paul Marais dwelt in the street called, perhaps by way of satire, -La Grande. His house was a quaint mixture of timber and stone, with -dormer lattices set in the red tiles of the roof. It leaned against its -neighbour for support, with every doorway and window-frame out of the -perpendicular. Yet it had stood firm during three centuries, and would -probably continue to stand during as many more. - -One chill afternoon in March Old Pol was sauntering to and fro in -front of his house, thoughtfully smoking a pipe. After half an hour -spent in this pleasant idling he suddenly quickened his pace and -entered his abode, passing to the parlour with its red-tiled sanded -floor, where, around the bright polished _chaufferette_ sat Madame -Marais and three or four old dames, all busily knitting, and all -enjoying those pleasures dear to the heart of every Breton woman, to -wit, cider and gossip. - -"Celestine," said Pol, "the diligence is coming." - -"Paul Marais," replied his wife with tart dignity, "don't be a fool." - -And Pol, expecting no other answer, whistled softly and withdrew. - -To explain madame's reproof it is necessary to state that two or three -years previously a gentleman calling himself a count had visited -Quilaix, and, charmed with the old-world air of the place, had dwelt in -Pol's house for the space of six months. - -The handsome profit derived by Pol on this occasion disposed him to -look forward to the coming of other visitors: but, alas! Quilaix is too -obscure to be mentioned in the ordinary manuals issued for the guidance -of tourists. The count's sojourn was an exception to the normal course -of events. - -Nevertheless Pol would not abandon hope; and, day by day, he awaited -the arrival of the diligence, for the purpose of inviting the chance -stranger to his own dwelling, before any other person should have the -opportunity of appropriating him. - -"Everything comes to the man who waits," muttered Pol to himself, as he -watched the distant vehicle swaying its zigzag course down the hillside -road. "This diligence is perhaps bringing me a visitor. Who can tell?" - -Twilight drew on; and, as the lamplighter was preparing the -illumination of La Rue Grande by the primitive method of fixing an -oil-lantern to the middle of a rope slung across the street, the -diligence came up, but instead of going on as usual to the _auberge_ in -the little market square, the driver stopped short in front of Pol's -house, and there alighted a young lady accompanied by a little boy, a -child of two years. - -"Madame Marais lives here?" she asked with an inquiring glance at Pol. - -"My wife's name," replied Pol. He pocketed his pipe, doffed his -cap, and bowed profoundly. "Permit me to lead you to her.--By the -saints," he muttered to himself, "a boarder at last, or may I lose my -harbour-mastership. Now, Celestine, it is my turn to laugh at you." - -The young lady, holding the child by the hand, followed Pol to the -parlour. - -"God bless you all, great and small," she said, using the greeting -customary in that part of Brittany. - -"Heaven bless you, too, stranger, whoever you may be," replied all, as -they rose and curtsied. - -This intercourse was conducted in the Breton tongue, the guttural -voices of Madame Marais and her companions forming a marked contrast -with the sweet voice of the stranger. - -"Can one have apartments here? The _voiturier_ has assured me that one -can." - -Pol, about to reply with an eager affirmative, was checked by a glance -from his more cautious spouse, who was not disposed to give herself -away too easily or too cheaply. - -"It is not our custom to accommodate visitors," she replied, speaking -with great dignity. "At least, not as a rule. But still with a little -trouble we might arrange. How many rooms does madame require. Would -four be----" - -"That number will do. Will you let me see them?" - -After a brief inspection the lady expressed her approval, being -especially pleased with the sitting-room, an apartment marked by a -charming air of antiquity. The oak flooring and pannelling were black -with age. Within the huge fireplace an ox could have been roasted -whole. Over the carved mantel was a boar's head, a trophy gained by Pol -in a hunting expedition among the Breton hills. On a dark oaken press -an ivory crucifix, browned by time, imparted a sort of solemnity to the -place. - -Terms were arranged; and the lady's luggage was brought in and -deposited up-stairs by the strong arm of Pol himself. - -"How long is madame likely to remain here?" asked the harbour-master's -wife, lingering with her hand on the handle of the sitting-room door. - -"Months. Years, perhaps," replied the stranger with a sad smile. "That -is," she went on, "if you are willing to let me stay so long." - -"And madame's name is----?" - -"Edith Breakspear." - -"Breakspear? Then madame is not French?" exclaimed the harbour-master's -wife, wondering to what nationality she should ascribe the name. - -"No, I am English," said the lady, with a faint touch of pride in her -voice. - -"Madame speaks the Breton like an angel." - -"I have lived a long time in Brittany." - -"Ah! madame loves Brittany," said the other, who like all Bretons was -intensely patriotic. "The climate reminds her of her own land. We -Bretons came from England. Centuries ago. And when we came we brought -the weather with us. Is it not so?" - -And with these words she smiled herself out of the room, and went -down-stairs to discuss the event with her cronies. - -"She is going to pay me four Napoleons a week. Think of that now! It is -more than the count ever gave. _Ah, ciel!_ but if I had been wearing my -best Sunday cap with its point lace and gold embroidery I could have -asked double. But how could one ask more with only a plain white cap -on, and a necklace of blue beads?" - -As may be guessed, the coming of a stranger into the little world of -Quilaix set the tongues of all the gossips wagging. The men were as -much interested as the women, and various were the surmises of the -nightly frequenters of the _Auberge des Pêcheurs_ as to her previous -history. But of this they could learn nothing. Mrs. Breakspear let fall -no word as to her past, and even Madame Marais' keen eyes failed to -penetrate the veil of mystery that undoubtedly hung around "The English -lady." - -Mrs. Breakspear had not seen more than twenty-one summers; she was -in truth so girlish in appearance that the people of Quilaix could -scarcely bring their lips to use the matronly "Madame," but more -frequently addressed her as "Mademoiselle." It was clear that some -secret sorrow was casting its shadow over her young life. Her pale -face and subdued air, the sad expression in her eyes, were the visible -tokens of a grief, too strong to be repressed or forgotten. - -As she was always dressed in black the gossips concluded that she was -in mourning, the general opinion being that she had recently lost -her husband, though a few ill-natured persons sneered at the word -"husband," in spite of her gold wedding-ring. - -Mrs. Breakspear made no attempt to form friendships. Firmly, yet -without hauteur, she repelled all advances, from whatever quarter they -came. She seemed to desire no other companionship than that of her -child, Idris. He was evidently the one being that reconciled her to -life. - -Thus passed five years: and Mrs. Breakspear, though still as great a -mystery as ever to the people of Quilaix, ceased to occupy the chief -place in their gossip. - -Idris was now seven years old, a handsome little fellow, endowed with -an intelligence beyond his years. - -His education was undertaken solely by his mother, concerning whom the -opinion went, that, in the matter of learning, she was equal, if not -superior, to Monsieur le Curé, the only other person in the place with -any pretensions to scholarship. - -At the back of Quilaix rises the moorland, an extensive wind-swept -region, blossoming in early summer with the beautiful broom that -furnished our first Plantagenet with his crest and surname. Over this -brown, purple-dotted expanse run two white lines intersecting each -other in the shape of the letter X. These lines indicate the only two -roads over the moor; and, just at the point of intersection, there -stands an irregular block of grey stone buildings. - -The part of the moorland immediately above the town was the usual -place of study, that is, whenever the day was warm and sunny. Then, -mother and son would climb to some high point, and seat themselves on -the grass; and while the boy, with the breeze of heaven lifting the -curls from his temples, would endeavour to fix his eyes on his books, -Mrs. Breakspear would fix hers on the grey stone building. Nothing -else on land or sea seemed to have any interest for her. The distant -and beautiful hills would often change their colour from grey to -violet beneath the alternation of sunshine and cloud: ships with their -fair sails set would glide daily from the haven of Quilaix; bands of -Catholic pilgrims, bound for some local shrine, would occasionally -cross the moorland, carrying banners and singing hymns: sea-gulls would -wheel their screaming flight aloft: trout leap and gleam in the brook -at her feet. But Mrs. Breakspear had eyes for none of these things. Her -attention, when not given to Idris and his book, was set upon the lone, -dun edifice. - -On certain days human figures, dwarfed by the distance, would issue -from the building, spreading themselves in little groups over the -landscape; and, after remaining out some hours, would return upon the -firing of a gun. At such times Mrs. Breakspear would clasp her hands -and gaze wistfully on the distant moving figures. - -One day her emotion was too great to escape the boy's notice: and, -following the direction of her eyes, he said, speaking in English, the -language used by them when alone:-- - -"Mother, what are those men doing?" - -"They are quarrying stone." - -"What for?" - -"Well, to make churches with, for one thing," replied the mother, with -a curious smile. - -"What! churches like that?" - -And Idris pointed to the _Chapelle des Pêcheurs_, which glowed in the -setting sunlight like sculptured bronze. - -"Yes: they quarry the stone and shape it into blocks, which are then -sent to Nantes, or Paris, or wherever wanted, and fitted together." - -Idris was silent for a few moments, turning the information over in his -mind. - -"They must be good men to make churches," he presently remarked. - -"On the contrary, they are bad men." - -Idris was puzzled at this, being evidently of opinion that the -character of the work sanctified the workers. - -"Then why do they cut stone for churches?" - -"Because they are made to do so by other men who watch to see that the -work is done." - -Idris becoming more puzzled at this compulsory state of labour, -returned to the moral character of the workers. - -"Are they _all_ bad--every one?" - -"No; not all," exclaimed his mother, with an energy that quite -surprised the little fellow. "There is one there who is the best, the -truest, the noblest of men." - -Her eyes sparkled, and a beautiful colour burned on her cheek. She sat -with a proud air as if defying the world to say the contrary. - -"Is he as good as father was?" - -"About the same," replied Mrs. Breakspear, her features softening into -a smile. - -"Why, you have said that no one was ever so good as father." - -"Have I? Well, this man is. There is no difference between them." - -"If he is so good, why has he to work among all those bad men?" - -"Some day, child, you shall know," replied his mother, folding him -within her arms. "Don't ask any more questions, Idie." - -"Why doesn't he run away?" persisted the little fellow. - -"Because soldiers are there, who would shoot him down if he tried to -escape," said Mrs. Breakspear with a shudder. "Come, let us be going. -It is growing cold. See how the mist is rising!" - -The boom of a distant gun was rolling faintly over the moorland. A fog -creeping up from the sea curtained the prison from view as they turned -to descend the slope that led to Quilaix. - -It was market-day. Buying and selling had now come to an end, but many -persons still lingered in the square, chiefly natives from remote -districts. "Robinson Crusoes," Idris called them, nor was the name -inappropriate. Clad in garments of goatskin with the hairy side -turned outwards, and with long tresses hanging like manes from beneath -their broad-brimmed hats, they might have been taken for wild men of -the woods: a wildness that was in appearance only, for no one is more -tender-hearted than the Breton peasant. - -Suddenly there was a movement among them, and it could be seen -that they were forming a circle around a man who had just made his -appearance. The maidens, who were beating and washing clothes in the -stream that flowed along one side of the square, ceased their work and -came running up to the circle, their wooden sabots sounding upon the -stone pavement. - -The cause of all this commotion was a man belonging to a class, -formerly more common in Brittany than nowadays, the class called Kloers -or itinerant minstrels, who recite verses of their own composing upon -any topic that happens to be uppermost in the public mind, accompanying -their rude improvisation upon the three-stringed rebec. - -"It is André the Kloer," cried Idris gleefully, who had caught a -glimpse of the minstrel. "Let us listen. He will tell us some fine -stories." - -The Kloer having glanced towards the ground at his hat, which contained -several sous, said:-- - -"For your help, friends, many thanks. I will now recite '_The Ballad of -the Ring_,' a ballad dealing with a murder that happened some years ago -at Nantes." - -The minstrel spoke in the language of the province, a language which -Idris understood as well as any Breton boy of his own age. The word -"murder" gave promise of something exciting. He glanced up at his -mother, supposing that she, too, would be equally interested in the -coming story: but, to his surprise, he saw that her face had become -whiter than usual--that it wore a strange look, a look of fear, a look -he had never before seen. The hand that held his own was trembling, -and, in a voice so changed from its ordinary tone as to be scarcely -recognizable, she said:-- - -"Home, Idie, let us go home." - -Suddenly the Kloer paused in the midst of his speaking. A tender -expression came over his face; a gentle light shone from his eyes, and -with hand solemnly uplifted, he said:-- - -"Christian brethren, ere we go further let us all say a _Pater_ and a -_De Profundis_ for the assassin as well as for his victim." - -In a moment his hearers with spontaneous and genuine piety were -kneeling upon the pavement, their heads bowed, their hats doffed, while -the Kloer, after making the sign of the cross, began to say the prayers. - -As Idris and his mother alone remained standing the attention of the -minstrel was naturally drawn to them. No sooner did his eyes fall upon -Mrs. Breakspear than a change came over him. His look of solemnity was -succeeded by one of wonderment, and after stammering out a few broken -phrases, which, though intended as pious petitions to Heaven, conveyed -scarcely any meaning to his hearers, he brought his prayer to an abrupt -conclusion. - -"Good folk," he cried, "I will not give you '_The Ballad of the Ring_.' -It is too mournful. It would sadden the hearts of some who are present." - -Mrs. Breakspear tightened her grasp on the wrist of Idris, and, much to -his grief, drew him away from the presence of the Kloer, and hurried -him onward to Pol's house. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -THE RUNIC RING - - -That same evening Idris lay reading on the hearth-rug before a bright -fire. Since their return from the moorland he had found his mother -unusually quiet, and he had therefore turned for companionship to his -favourite book, "_The Life of King Alfred_." Having reared the volume -against a footstool he rested his elbows upon the floor, and his chin -upon his hands, and in this attitude was soon absorbed in the doings of -the Saxon hero. - -Suddenly he looked up and addressed his mother, who was sitting in an -armchair watching him. - -"Mother, what are runes?" - -What was there in this simple question to startle Mrs. Breakspear, for -startled she certainly was? - -"Why do you wish to know? Who has been talking to you about runes?" - -"This book says that the Vikings used to carve runes on the prows of -their galleys. What _are_ runes?" - -The mother's face lost its look of alarm, yet it was with some -hesitancy that she replied, "They were letters used in olden times by -the nations of the north." - -"But how could letters carved on the prow protect the vessel?" - -What a pair of earnest dark eyes were those fixed that moment upon the -mother's face! - -"Well, as a matter of fact, they couldn't. But men fancied that they -could. They were very superstitious in those days." - -As Idris showed a desire for further knowledge, his mother -continued:--"The old Norsemen believed that these letters when -pronounced in a certain order would have a magical effect. Some runes -would stop the course of the wind: others would cause an enemy's sword -to break. Some would make the captive's chains fall off: and others -again would cause the dead to come forth from the tomb and speak. But -you know, dear Idie, all this is not true. The runic letters have no -such power. But the old Norse people believed so much in the virtue -of these characters that they engraved them on the walls of their -dwellings, on their armour, on their ships, on anything, in fact, which -they wished to protect." - -"Were these letters like ours in shape?" - -"Very different. You would like to see some Norse runes?" - -Mrs. Breakspear rose, and going to an oak press produced a small ebony -casket, whose exterior was decorated with miniature carvings of Norse -warriors engaged in combat. - -Seating herself upon the hearth-rug beside the little fellow she -unlocked the casket and lifted the lid. Within, upon the blue satin -lining, there lay a silver ring, measuring about eight inches in -circumference, and obviously of antique workmanship. - -"This," said Mrs. Breakspear, "is a very old runic ring." - -"How old?" - -"More than two thousand years old. Tradition says that it was made by -Odin himself. Do you know who he was, Idie?" - -"The book calls him an imaginary deity. What does that mean?" - -"It means a god who never lived." - -"Then how can the ring have been made by Odin if there never was an -Odin?" - -"Odin, the god, is, of course, a fable; but Odin, the man, may have -had a real existence. He was, so the wise tell us, a warrior, priest, -and king of the North, who after death was worshipped as a deity. -The legend states that, having made up his mind to die, Odin gave to -himself nine wounds in the form of a circle, guiding the point of his -spear by this ring, which was laid on his breast for that purpose. The -ring thus became sacred in the eyes of his children and descendants: -and they showed their reverence for it by using it as an altar-ring in -their religious ceremonies. Guthrum, the famous Danish warrior, was of -Odin's race, and this is said to have been the identical holy ring, -celebrated in history, upon which he and his Vikings swore to quit the -kingdom of Alfred." - -Idris listened with breathless interest. Guthrum! Alfred! Odin! To -think that his mother should possess a ring that had once belonged to -these exalted characters! It was wonderful! If the relic were gifted -with memory and speech what an interesting story it might unfold! - -He turned the ring over in his hands. How massive it was! None of your -modern, hollow bangles, but solid and weighty. The ancient silversmith -had not been sparing of the metal. - -"Oh, couldn't we make a lot of franc-pieces out of it!" cried Idris. - -The outer perimeter of the ring was enamelled with purple, and -decorated with a four-line inscription of tiny runic letters in gold, -so clear and distinct in outline, that a runologist would have had no -difficulty in reading them; though whether the characters, when read, -would have yielded any meaning, is a different matter. - -"Are these the runes?" asked Idris, pointing to them. "What funny -looking things! Here is one like an arrow, and here it is again, and -again. Why, some of them _are_ like our letters. Here is one like a B, -and here is an R, and an X. What does all this writing mean, mother?" - -"No one has ever yet been able to interpret it. When you are older, -Idie, you shall study runes, and then perhaps you will be able to -explain the meaning." - -Idris knitted his little brows over the inscription as if desirous of -solving the enigma there and then, without waiting till manhood's days. - -"Did Odin engrave these letters?" he asked. - -"He may have done so. He is said to have been the inventor of runes, -you know." - -As Idris turned the ring around in his hand his eye became attracted by -a broad, black stain on the inner perimeter. - -"What is this dark mark?" - -His mother hesitated ere replying:-- - -"It is perhaps a blood-stain." - -"Why isn't it red like blood?" - -"A blood-stain soon turns black. I have said that this was an -altar-ring. Let me tell you what is meant by that. You know if you go -into _La Chapelle des Pêcheurs_ you will see upon the altar a--what, -Idie?" - -"A crucifix," was the prompt reply. - -"Well, if you had gone into any temple of the Northmen--and their -temples were often nothing more than a circle of tall stones in the -depth of a forest--you would have seen on their altar a large silver -ring. And just as Catholics nowadays kiss a crucifix and swear to speak -the truth, so in old Norse times men employed a ring for the same -purpose. Before they took the oath the ring was dipped in the blood of -the sacrifice. Then if a man broke his word it was believed that the -god to whom the sacrifice had been offered would most surely punish -him." - -The book that Idris had been reading contained an account of the Norse -mode of sacrificing: and so with his eye still on the dark stain, he -said:-- - -"Mother, didn't the old Norsemen sometimes offer up men on their -altars?" - -"Sometimes they did." - -"Then this stain may be a man's blood?" - -"It is very likely." - -"Perhaps the very blood of Odin, made when he gave himself the nine -wounds," said Idris, in a tone of glee, and fascinated by the ring, as -children often are fascinated by things gruesome. "What a long time the -stain has lasted! But it can't be Odin's blood," he continued, with -an air of mournfulness: "the stain would have worn off long ago.--I -_would_ like to know whose blood it is!" - -"Hush! Hush! We do not yet know that it _is_ human blood. Come, you -must not talk any more about such dreadful things." - -And sensible that the conversation had taken a turn not at all suited -to a tender mind, Mrs. Breakspear tried to divert his thoughts. Putting -away the altar-ring, she seated herself beside him, and drawing -him partly within her embrace, she said, "Now what shall I talk -about?"--which was her usual preface when beginning his instruction in -history, geography, and the like. - -"Tell me about Vikings--_all_ about them," he replied with the air of -one capable of taking in the whole cycle of Scandinavian lore. - -As Mrs. Breakspear had made a study of Northern history, she was able -to gratify her little son's request by regaling him with a variety of -tales drawn from Icelandic sagas and early Saxon chronicles. For more -than two hours Idris sat entranced, listening to the doings, good and -bad, of the famous sea-kings of old. - -"I wish," he cried, when his mother had finished her stories for the -night, "I wish _I_ were a Viking, like _Mr._ Rollo and _Mr_. Eric the -Red. It would be fine." - -For several days Idris would listen to no history that did not relate -to Vikings. He took likewise to drawing Norse galleys from his -mother's description of them, giving to every vessel the orthodox -raven-standard, dragon-prow, and a row of shields hung all around above -the water-line. And he somewhat startled the good Curé of Quilaix, who -had made a morning-call upon Mrs. Breakspear: for when told to hand the -reverend gentleman a glass of wine, he held the drink aloft with the -cry of "Skoal to the Northland, skoal!" adding immediately afterwards, -"Runes! runes! I wish some one would teach me how to read runes. Won't -you, monsieur?" - -Runes! Monsieur le Curé had had a reputation for scholarship once -upon a time: but thirty years incessantly spent in doing good among -the people of his parish had left him so little time for study that -he could now read his Greek Testament only by the aid of the French -translation. - -"And why do you wish to learn runes, my little man?" he said, patting -the boy on the head. - -"Because--because----" began Idris; but, observing that his mother was -pressing her finger upon her lip as a sign for him to be silent, he -stopped short, and Mrs. Breakspear adroitly turned the conversation to -other matters. After the departure of the Curé, she said:-- - -"Idie, you must never let any one know that we have that runic ring in -our possession." - -"Why not?" he asked in surprise. - -"Because there are men who desire to lay their hands upon it, and if -they learn that it is in this house they may try to steal it; nay, will -perhaps kill us in order to obtain it. The ring has been the cause of -one murder, and if you speak of it out of doors it may be the cause -of another. Remember, then, you must not mention the ring to any one. -Remember, remember!" - - - - -CHAPTER III - -A RETROSPECT - - -Idris slept in a room the window of which, being a dormer one, -overlooked the roofs of the other houses, and gave him an interrupted -view of the sea. - -One morning, as soon as he had drawn the curtain, he came running to -his mother's room with the news:-- - -"Oh, mother, come and look. There's a pretty little ship in the bay." - -So, to please him, Mrs. Breakspear stepped from her _lit clos_, or -cupboard bed, and stole, even as she was, in her night-robe, to take a -view of the vessel. - -"See, there it is," cried Idris, excitedly pointing it out. "Is it a -Viking ship, mother?" - -"There are no Vikings nowadays," was the reply, a reply which Idris -took as a proof of the degeneracy of the times. "It is a yacht." - -As this term conveyed no more enlightenment to Idris' mind than if she -had said that it was a quinquereme, he naturally asked, "What is a -yacht?" - -The explanation was deferred till breakfast-time, when his mother -entered into the meaning of the term. Idris made a somewhat hasty meal, -being eager to run off to the quay for the purpose of taking a nearer -view of the newly-arrived vessel. - -Dancing down the stairs of the old house into the street he made for -the end of the stone pier, and sitting down at the head of the steps -he took a long survey of the yacht, wondering whether it equalled in -point of swiftness and beauty the famous _Long Serpent_ of Olaf, built -by that master-shipwright, Thorberg. - -A boat was rapidly making its way from the vessel to the harbour. Idris -recognized it as the revenue-cutter, at the tiller of which sat Old Pol -himself. - -"Ha! Master Idris," he said, as soon as he had mounted the stairs, -"what a pity you were not out an hour earlier! You could then have gone -with us to yon vessel." And then, turning to those who had accompanied -him, he remarked: "So Captain Rochefort is the owner of that yacht. -Well, everybody has heard of him: one of the bravest in the Emperor's -service, and an officer of the Legion of Honour. Nothing wrong with -that craft, eh, Baptiste?" - -"Humph!" growled the man addressed, a grizzled old coastguard with a -saturnine cast of countenance. "So they have put Captain Rochefort -ashore at Port St. Remé, and he is coming on foot to Quilaix. But if -the Captain wants to visit Quilaix, why does he not come with the -yacht, instead of walking over the moorland?" - -"Why, Baptiste, you talk like one who is suspicious," remarked Pol in -surprise. - -"And I _am_ suspicious. There's something wrong in the wind. -Harbour-master, listen to me. As everybody in Quilaix is going to the -Pardon to-day the town will be deserted until a late hour. The night -will be dark, as this is the time of no moon. Captain Rochefort has -been put ashore in order to signal the favourable moment. They are -going to run a cargo." - -This statement was received by Pol with a burst of laughter. - -"Baptiste, you talk like a fool. What cargo can such a small craft -carry? Besides, they have no cargo. Did we not overhaul her thoroughly? -Captain Rochefort a contrabandist! A military officer hazard his -reputation in a smuggling venture! Impossible! He would have -everything to lose and nothing to gain by such a course." - -Baptiste, by a shake of his head, implied that he was not to be moved -from his opinion. - -"Very well, Baptiste, since you are so suspicious, we had better put -you on the watch for the next twenty-four hours." - -"I intend to watch, whether put on or not. And by the key of Saint -Tugean I shall have discovered something before to-morrow morning -comes." - -"Undoubtedly. You will discover that you would have acted more wisely -by going with us to the Pardon to-day. That's the ticket for me. Life -is sad: then let us not miss any of its gaieties. And in all Finistère -there are no pancakes and cider like those of St. Remé." - -The rest of the coastguard, murmuring their approval of these -sentiments, dispersed in order to prepare for the Pardon, or -church-festival, to be held that day in a distant village; of which -festival the harbour-master's wife had, on the previous evening, drawn -so pleasant a forecast in the hearing of Idris, that the little fellow -had felt great disappointment on learning that his mother intended to -take no part in the celebration. - -Madame Marais had been somewhat troubled by the question as to how -her tenant's meals were to be prepared during her absence, but Mrs. -Breakspear had solved this difficulty by offering to arrange for -herself. - -Meantime Idris, still at the head of the pier-steps, continued his -survey of the vessel. - -A piece of canvas hanging over the taffrail was suddenly drawn up by a -sailor on board, an act that enabled Idris to see the name of the yacht -painted in big black letters. - -_N-E-M-E-S-I-S._ - -_Nemesis!_ This was a word new to him. He had known sailors call -their boats _Marie_, _Isabelle_, _Jeanne_, and the like, with various -epithets prefixed, as _jolie_, _belle_, and _petite_, but never -_Nemesis_. He could not tell whether it was the name of man or woman: -so, on returning home, he sought enlightenment of his mother. - -"It's a curious name to give to a ship," commented the little fellow -thoughtfully, after Mrs. Breakspear had tried to explain the meaning of -the term. "Why do they call it that? Are they going to take vengeance -on somebody?" - -Shortly afterwards Madame Marais came out of her house, wearing -the wonderful lace cap that had descended to her through several -generations. Leaning upon the arm of Old Pol, who was likewise -gorgeously arrayed, she moved off in great state to take her place in -the line of the procession which, under the direction of Monsieur le -Curé, was slowly forming before the porch of _La Chapelle des Pêcheurs_. - -When all preliminaries had been satisfactorily completed, the -simple-hearted peasants, with flags flying and pipes playing, set off -on their pilgrimage, walking at a somewhat leisurely pace, for your -true Breton is seldom in a hurry. - -Idris, regretting that he could not accompany them, clambered to an -eminence on the moorland, where, aided by his mother's opera-glasses, -he watched the course of the procession till it faded from view. - -Nearly everybody in Quilaix had gone off to this Pardon. All the shops -were closed, and the town was as silent as on a Sunday morning during -the time of high mass. A few of the fishermen and of the coastguard -had indeed remained behind, but these were slumbering in the shadow of -the sardine-boats drawn high up on the beach. From these slumberers -must be excepted old Baptiste Malet, who throughout the day glided to -and fro along the shore, now and then dropping behind a rock to take -a scrutiny of the yacht by the aid of a telescope nearly as long as -himself. - -The _Nemesis_ still remained at the point where the anchor had first -been cast. She was certainly a mysterious vessel; none of her occupants -had come ashore: none could be seen on deck. It was quite clear that -for some reason or other the crew shrank from the observation of those -on land. - -A gala-day it may have been for others, but for Idris it proved a -somewhat dull time. His mother seemed too much preoccupied to set him -his regular lessons: or perhaps she did not deem it fair to put him to -study while others were festively engaged. She sat during the greater -part of the day turning over the leaves of a large scrapbook filled -with newspaper cuttings--a book which Idris was never permitted to see, -Mrs. Breakspear being accustomed, as soon as her readings were ended, -to lock the volume within a drawer of the old oak press. She had read -these extracts so often as to be able to recite the greater part of -them by heart: nevertheless, she continued to con them daily, as if -they were quite new to her, though their perusal must have given her -pain. - -The first of these newspaper extracts was a long article from the -journal _L'Étoile de la Bretagne_, worded as follows:-- - - -"Let us review the facts of this remarkable case. - -"Eric Marville is a gentleman of English birth who settled at Nantes in -the spring of 1866. Of handsome person and polished manners, speaking -our language with the ease of a native, and recently married to a rich -and beautiful wife, M. Marville soon became a favourite in the higher -circles of Nantes society. The Armorique Club, the most fashionable -of its kind, admitted him to membership. It would have been well had -M. Marville never entered the salons of this establishment, since it -was here that he first met Henri Duchesne. The latter by all accounts -was a professional gamester, though up to the present time nothing -dishonourable has been proved in connection with his play. - -"From the very first these two men, Eric Marville and Henri Duchesne, -for some unknown reason, appear to have been in a state of secret -hostility to each other, hostility which finally developed into open -rupture. A remark uttered by Marville one evening, and doubtless -uttered with no ill intent, on the wonderful luck attending M. Duchesne -at cards, was interpreted by the latter as a reflection upon his mode -of playing, and he immediately challenged the other to a duel. M. -Marville merely shrugged his shoulders with the words:--'It is not the -fashion of my countrymen, monsieur, to fight a duel over trifles.' 'Do -you call the honour of my name a trifle?' exclaimed Duchesne, at the -same time contemptuously flinging a glass of wine in Marville's face. - -"In a moment the club was in an uproar, the friends of each striving -to keep the two men apart, an object successfully accomplished. All -efforts, however, to effect a reconciliation failed, and the two men -left the club avowedly enemies. - -"The next evening M. Marville was again present at the Amorique Club, -but, confining himself to the newspapers and political gossip, took no -part in the play that went on. M. Duchesne was likewise present, and -entered the lists against M. Montagne, a young lieutenant of Chasseurs. -The usual good fortune attended Duchesne, and his opponent having lost -all the money upon his person, said:--'I have one more stake, if M. -Duchesne does not object to play against it.' And with these words -Montagne drew forth a large silver circlet having every appearance, -according to an antiquary who was present, of being an altar-ring, such -as was used in the religious rites of ancient Scandinavia. - -"M. Marville, happening to set eyes upon this circlet, became -singularly agitated; and, stepping up to the table where the two men -were at play, he said, addressing Montagne: 'How came you by that -ring?' M. Montagne, absorbed in the play, or perhaps deeming the -question an impertinent one, made no reply. The play resulted in the -transference of the ring to the pockets of M. Duchesne, who shortly -afterwards took his departure. Five minutes later M. Marville likewise -quitted the club, and, on being asked by a friend why he left earlier -than usual, replied:--'To recover my ring.' - -"Two hours afterwards, a _sergent-de-ville_, going his accustomed -round, heard cries for help coming from the Place Graslin, and on -running to the spot found M. Duchesne lying on the pavement with blood -flowing from a wound in the breast. M. Marville was kneeling beside him -and calling for help. - -"The injured man was at once removed to the adjacent surgery of M. -Rosaire, who, upon examination, found that life had fled. - -"The body was conveyed to the Préfecture, accompanied by M. Marville, -who gave evidence as to the finding of it. His statement amounted to no -more than that in walking homewards he had come by accident upon the -body of the fallen man. - -"The high position held by M. Marville, and his plausible explanation -of the situation in which he had been found by the _sergent-de-ville_, -prevented the authorities from attaching suspicion to him, and on -giving his recognizances to appear when required, M. Marville was -allowed to depart. - -"But the investigations carried on next day gave a different turn to -the affair. The quarrel at the Armorique Club and the threatening -language of the two men were recalled. Marville's remark on leaving -the club in the wake of M. Duchesne to the effect that he was going -to recover the ring seemed to supply an additional motive for the -deed, especially when taken in conjunction with the fact that though -M. Duchesne's money and jewellery were untouched the ring itself was -missing. - -"But the most significant circumstance of all was the finding of the -dagger with which the murder had been effected. Shown to M. Lenoir, -the well-known dealer in antiquities, whose establishment is in the -Rue Crébillon, he identified it as one that had been purchased from -him by M. Marville on the morning of the day on which the crime took -place. The weapon is an Italian stiletto, one warranted to have -belonged originally to the famous bravo, Michele Pezza, better known -to frequenters of the opera as Fra Diavolo. M. Lenoir mentioned this -circumstance as he handed the weapon to the purchaser, adding:--'It is -a dagger that has shed the blood of Frenchmen.'--'And may do so again,' -was the singular reply of M. Marville. - -"These circumstances seem to justify the arrest of M. Marville, who now -stands charged with the murder of M. Duchesne. - -"A peculiar feature of the case is the vanishing of the altar-ring. The -prisoner declines to make any statement respecting it, and though his -house has been searched no trace of it can be discovered." - - * * * * * * - -Mrs. Breakspear put away the book with a heavy sigh. - -"Ah, Eric!" she murmured. "Will your innocence ever be established?" - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -TRAGEDY! - - -Mrs. Breakspear sat by the open casement enjoying the deep beauty of -the evening. The air was still and clear, and over the bay hung one -star sparkling in a sapphire sky. - -Idris, seated with her, had eyes for nothing but the yacht _Nemesis_, -which still lay out in the offing, rising and falling with the motion -of the tide, and showing a tiny light at the stern. - -"Look, mother!" he cried suddenly. "They are putting out a boat." - -By the faint starlight they could see in the boat seven men, one of -whom steered while the rest rowed. Their garb was that of ordinary -French seamen, but Mrs. Breakspear noticed with surprise that each was -armed with cutlass and pistol. - -"Why are they not coming to the harbour?" asked Idris, a question which -found an echo in his mother's mind. - -The boat glided smoothly on, and finally vanished behind the cliffs to -the east of the town. - -"I wonder whether old Baptiste is watching them?" said Idris. "He said -that the men in the yacht were smugglers, and that they would come -ashore this evening. And sure enough they've come." - -"If the men in that boat are smugglers, don't you think, Idie, that -they would wait till it is much darker?" - -Idris was forced to admit the reasonableness of this remark. - -"Why are they all wearing swords? Perhaps they _are_ Vikings, after -all?" he went on, loth to believe that such heroes had vanished from -the earth. - -His mother shook her head in mild protest, not knowing that there was -a good deal of latter-day Vikingism in the enterprise that was taking -these seven men ashore. - -Now as Mrs. Breakspear sat in the silence and solemnity of the -deepening twilight she became subject to a feeling the like of which -she had never before experienced. A vague awe, a presentiment of coming -ill, stole over her; and, yielding to its influence, she resolved, -before it should be too late, to carry out a purpose she had long had -in mind. - -"Idie," she said, closing the casement and moving to the fireplace, -"come and sit here. I have something to tell you." - -Wondering much at her grave manner the little fellow obeyed. - -"Idie," she began, "you have been taught to believe that your father -died when you were an infant. I have told you this, thinking it right -that you should know nothing of his sad history. But, sooner or later, -you are sure to hear it from others: told, too, in a way that I would -not have you believe. Therefore it is better that you should hear -the story from me: and remember to take these words of mine for your -guidance in all future years: and if men should speak ill of your -father, do not believe them: for who should know him better than I, his -wife?" - -She paused for a moment: and Idris, new to this sort of language, made -no reply. - -"Idie, your father is _not_ dead." - -Idris' eyes became big with wonder. - -"Then why doesn't he live with us?" he asked. - -"Because," replied his mother, sinking her voice to a whisper, "because -he is in prison." - -As prison is a place usually associated with crime, Idris naturally -received a shock, which his mother was not slow to perceive. - -"Idie, you know something of history, and therefore you know that many -a good man has found himself in prison before to-day." - -"O yes: there was Sir Walter Raleigh, and that Earl of Surrey who was -a poet: and--and--I can't think of any more at present, but I can find -them in the book." - -"Well, your father, like many others in history, is suffering unjustly." - -"What do they say he did?" - -"They say," replied his mother, once more sinking her voice to a -whisper, "they say he committed murder. But he did not: he did not: -he did not. I have his word that he is innocent. I will set his word -against all the rest of the world." - -"How long is he to remain in prison?" - -"He is never to come out," replied Mrs. Breakspear; and, unable to -control her emotion, she burst into a fit of sobbing. - -Idris, touched by the sight of his mother's grief, began to cry also. -Now for the first time he understood why his mother so often wept in -secret. How could men be so cruel as to take his father away from her -and to shut him up in prison for a crime he had not committed? - -"Why didn't they put him under the guillotine?" he asked, when his fit -of crying was over. - -A natural question, but one that caused his mother to shiver. - -"Do not use that awful word," she said. "He was condemned to death, but -the sentence was afterwards changed." - -Certain past events were now seen by Idris in a new light. - -"Mother, I know in what prison father is. It is the one on the moorland -over there," he exclaimed, indicating the direction with his hand. - -"You are right, Idie: and now you know why I live at Quilaix. It is -that I may be near your father. I am happier here--if indeed I may use -the word happy in speaking of myself--than in any other place. I have a -beautiful house at Nantes, but I cannot live there in ease and luxury -while your father is deprived of everything that makes life bright. Now -listen, Idie, for I am going to require of you a solemn promise. Since -your father did not commit the murder it is certain that some one else -did. I want you to find that man." - -"I, mother?" - -"Of course I do not mean now. In after years. When you are a man." - -"But supposing the murderer should be dead?" - -"You must find him, living or dead: if living, you must bring him to -justice: if dead, you must show to the world that your father was -guiltless of the deed. He himself, confined as he is within prison -walls, can do nothing to establish his innocence: and as for me, I have -the feeling that I shall not live long. Grief is shortening my days. To -you, then, I leave this task: to it you must devote your whole life. -You will be spared the necessity of having to earn your living, since -you are well provided for. But though health, strength, and fortune -be yours, you will find these advantages embittered by the constant -thought, 'Men think me the son of a murderer!' Will you let the world -do you this injustice? Will you not try to clear your father's memory? -Will you not ever bear in mind your mother's dearest wish?" - -Moved by her earnestness Idris gave the required promise, consoling -himself over the present difficulty of the problem by the thought that -it would perhaps seem easier in the days to come. - -"You have not forgotten the story we read the other day," continued -his mother, "of the great Hannibal; how, when he was a boy his father, -leading him to the altar, made him swear to be the lifelong enemy of -Rome? You, too, must make a similar oath. Bring me the Bible." - -Idris brought it, and at his mother's command laid his hand upon a page -of the open Book, and repeated after her the following words:-- - -"I swear on reaching manhood to do my best to establish my father's -innocence. May God help me to keep this oath!" - -"Say it again, Idie." - -Idris accordingly repeated the vow, feeling somewhat proud in thus -imitating the Carthaginian hero. - -His mother brushed back the curls from his forehead and looked -earnestly into his eyes. - -"Little Idris! little Idris!" she murmured. "Am I acting foolishly? I -am forgetting that you are only seven years of age--scarcely old enough -to understand the meaning of what you have just uttered. No matter: -when you are older, if you are a true son, as I feel sure you will be, -you will not require the memory of this oath to teach you your duty. -And now I will tell you the story of the murder, and why your father -came to be suspected of---- Ha! what is that?" she gasped, breaking off -abruptly. "Listen! O, Idie, who is it?" - -They had believed themselves to be alone in the house. Mrs. Breakspear, -before retiring to this sitting-room, had made fast the outer doors as -well as the lower windows. In such circumstances, therefore, it was -alarming to hear footsteps ascending the staircase--footsteps which -Mrs. Breakspear instinctively felt to be those of a man, and not of a -woman; footsteps, not of Old Pol, but of a stranger! How had he gained -access to the house, and what was his object? - -The unknown visitor had mounted to the head of the staircase and was -now advancing along the passage leading to the room in which Mrs. -Breakspear sat. Unable to speak from surprise and fear mother and son -gazed at the door with dilated eyes as if expecting to see some awful -vision. - -The door was pushed open, and Mrs. Breakspear could scarcely suppress a -scream at sight of the man who entered, for his face was hidden behind -a black silk vizard, such as might be worn at a _bal masqué_, and -through the holes of the vizard two eyes could be seen sparkling, so it -seemed to Mrs. Breakspear, with a sinister expression. A low-crowned -soft hat covered his head; and a cloak, reaching to his heels, -completely concealed his person. - -He came forward a few paces, glancing round the room as he did so, -and seeming to derive satisfaction from the fact that it contained no -persons more formidable than a woman and a child. - -"You are alarmed, madame, but without reason," he began. "It is not -my purpose to do you hurt--" he paused for a moment, and then added, -"unless your obstinacy should call for it." - -The man's voice was altogether strange to Mrs. Breakspear. He spoke in -French, but with an accent that somehow impressed her with the belief -that he was an Englishman: one, too, accustomed to move in good society. - -"The first fact I would impress upon your mind is this," continued the -stranger, "that you are alone, unprotected, in my power absolutely. If -you raise your voice there is no one either in the house or in the -street to hear you. The town is practically deserted. All are gone -to the Pardon, a fact I have taken into my calculations. If you will -reflect upon this, it may facilitate my errand." - -These words, and the tone in which they were spoken, did not tend to -allay Mrs. Breakspear's fears. With difficulty she gathered voice to -speak. - -"Who are you?" - -A smile appeared beneath the fringe of the silken vizard. - -"This mask is sufficient proof that I wish to conceal my identity." - -"What do you want?" - -"A more sensible question than your first, since it brings us to the -point at once. I require, nay, I demand of you, the Norse altar-ring -now in your keeping." - -"What reason have you for supposing that it is here?" said Mrs. -Breakspear, growing bolder. - -"Do not equivocate." The eyes in the mask flashed like polished steel. -"I know it to be in your possession. Do you deny it?" Mrs. Breakspear -was silent. "You do not deny it? Good! The ring being here, I demand -it." - -"Why do you want it?" - -"I decline to be catechised. Give me the ring." - -"You are evidently a gentleman by education, if not by birth." The -stranger gave a start at this. "And yet you seek to act the part of a -common thief, a part you would not dare act," she cried with spirit, -"were I a man, and not a defenceless woman." - -The man shrugged his shoulders impatiently. - -"I did not come to listen to moral vapourings, but to receive the ring." - -"And what if I refuse to comply with your demand?" - -[Illustration] - -"You are alone, let me repeat, and absolutely at my mercy." - -A dagger flashed from beneath his cloak. With a cry Mrs. Breakspear -clasped Idris in her arms to shield him from a possible attack. Yet -even amid her fear it did not escape her notice that the hand which -held the weapon was small, white, and decorated with a diamond ring. - -"Listen to the voice of prudence," continued the stranger. "It is -within my power to despatch you both, and to search these apartments -for the ring which you admit is somewhere here. I am quite prepared to -go to that extreme rather than return without it. You will, therefore, -see the wisdom of surrendering the ring: you thus save your life and -that of your child: I save time and trouble--an arrangement mutually -advantageous." - -Something in his tone convinced Mrs. Breakspear that he was quite -capable of carrying out his threat. - -"You will find the ring in an ebony case in the top drawer of that -cabinet. Take it: and if it should bring upon you the curse which it -has brought upon me and mine, you will live to rue this day." - -The man smiled, put up his weapon, walked towards the oak press, and in -a moment more the casket was in his hands. - -"Yes, this is it," he murmured in a tone of satisfaction, as he drew -the ring from the case, and scrutinized the runic inscription. - -"May one ask," he continued, concealing the relic upon his person, "how -you came to deny all knowledge of it at the trial of your husband?" - -"I spoke truly," she answered, "being unaware at the time that my -husband had secretly entrusted it to the care of his friend, Captain -Rochefort." - -"After stealing it from the body of his victim," added the stranger. - -"His victim? There you err," cried Mrs. Breakspear with flashing eyes, -loathing to answer the stranger, yet eager to vindicate her husband. -"When my husband left the Armorique Club on that fatal evening he -overtook M. Duchesne on his way home, and upon the latter's expressing -regret for his violence of the preceding night a reconciliation took -place. As a pledge of amity M. Duchesne, remembering the interest my -husband had shown in the ring, made him a present of it: in return -my husband insisted that Duchesne should accept the antique poniard -purchased by him that morning. Thus they parted: the one with the -ring, the other with the dagger. The assassin, whoever he was, that -attacked Duchesne, must, during the struggle, have become possessed of -the dagger, and with it he inflicted the fatal wound. Next morning, my -husband, foreseeing that he might be accused of the murder, and aware -that his possession of the ring would seem a suspicious circumstance, -handed it to Captain Rochefort, enjoining him, very unwisely as I now -perceive, to keep silent on the matter." - -"And so," commented the stranger, "Captain Rochefort conspired to -defeat the ends of justice." - -"The word justice comes with an ill grace from the lips of a coward and -a thief," retorted Mrs. Breakspear, her spirit rising, as it always -rose, whenever her husband's innocence was put to the doubt. "Say, -rather, that in concealing the ring Captain Rochefort was seeking to -prevent the Law from drawing an erroneous conclusion." - -"He failed, however," sneered the stranger, "for the Law pronounced -your husband guilty--greatly to my interests. A pity they didn't -guillotine him! Still, he is in prison: there let him rot! and---- Ah!" -he muttered in a hoarse voice, breaking off abruptly. "In the name of -hell, what's that?" - -He could not have been a very brave man, Idris thought, for he seemed -unable to keep his hand which rested on the table from shaking. - -All three were silent, listening for a renewal of the sound. It soon -came--a dull boom slowly rolling through the air like distant thunder. - -With the air of one mad the stranger dashed to the window, and flinging -wide the casement looked out into the night, a night of glory and -beauty, such as is seldom seen in misty Brittany. The air from horizon -to zenith was alive with countless stars that seemed to float like -silver dust in the blue depth. Their faint light falling over a wide -expanse of rippling sea, and on a long arc of yellow sand terminated at -each end by dark cliffs, formed a picture that would have charmed the -eye of an artist. - -Idris, his curiosity getting the better of his fear, slipped from his -mother's embrace, and, stealing to a second casement, looked through -its latticed panes. - -On the water was the boat he had noticed earlier in the evening, the -boat that had been put out from the yacht. If its occupants had gone -ashore for the purpose of taking some one aboard they had failed in -their object, since the boat contained the same seven sailors. They -were evidently in a state of perplexity: for, without any apparent -motive, they were rowing backwards and forwards in a line parallel with -the shore, the steersman now and then standing up and sweeping the -coast with a night-glass. - -Turning his eyes upon the yacht Idris saw jets of black smoke issuing -from the funnel. The engineer was evidently getting up steam. - -Here, thought Idris, was the explanation of the booming sound. The -yacht was about to weigh anchor, and had fired a gun as a signal of -departure. - -The masked man, however, did not seem to think that the sound came from -the yacht. With his body half out of the window he was staring at the -plateau of brown moorland with its faint silvery crown--staring as if -behind that white mist some exciting event were happening that he would -fain witness. - -Once more came the dull, rolling reverberation, and at that sound the -man reeled from the window as if buffeted by a giant hand. - -"Damnation! he has escaped," he hissed between his set teeth. "Is this -their vigilance, after being warned of the plot? But my enemy shall not -escape. I'll join in the chase myself. That gun invites pursuit. It is -lawful," and here a sinister smile appeared beneath the fringe of his -mask, "it is lawful to shoot a fugitive convict." - -With that he darted from the room and dashed down the staircase: the -slamming of a door followed, and the next moment his tread could be -heard going up the street in the direction of the moorland prison. - -The indignation felt by Mrs. Breakspear at the theft of the ring became -lost in a new emotion. A convict had escaped, and the stranger's words -seemed almost to imply that the fugitive was--her husband! She strove -to banish this idea as a wild fancy, as a too daring hope on her part, -but it would persist in forcing itself upon her. With her hand pressed -to her side she sat, powerless to speak, trembling at the thought that -at that very moment Eric Marville might be fleeing over the misty -moorland with armed warders in close pursuit eager to bring him down -with a carbine shot. - -"Hark! there goes another gun," cried Idris. "Who is it that is firing, -and why are they doing it?" - -Something else besides the gun was now heard. Along the lonely and -usually silent road that led down from the moorland to Quilaix came a -sound, which, at first faint and undistinguishable in character, became -gradually more distinct, and finally developed into the thud-thud of -horse-hoofs, accompanied by the noise of wheels rattling madly forward -as if speed were a matter of life and death to the driver of the -vehicle. - -Louder and ever louder grew the sound of the galloping horse-hoofs; -they descended the moorland: they reached the outskirts of the town: -they came plunging up the Rue Grande, and at last the wild race was -brought to a sudden standstill in front of the harbour-master's door. - -Idris, looking from the window, saw in the street below a light gig, -and in it a man of soldierly aspect, who was holding the reins with -a tight hand and using his best endeavours to keep the panting and -steaming mare steady in order to facilitate the descent of a second man. - -"For God's sake, Eric, make haste," cried the one in the gig, with a -backward glance. "They can't be far behind us." - -The man to whom these words were spoken delivered a succession of -knocks at the street-door, the loud, imperative knocks of one whose -errand will brook no delay. - -Without waiting for his mother's bidding Idris flew down the stairs -eager to learn the meaning of this strange summons. - -On opening the door he found on the threshold a man draped from neck to -ankles in a grey ulster, a man who acted in a very strange way, for he -lifted Idris completely off his feet and kissed him several times. - -Now Idris, though not at all averse to the kisses of his mother or of -the fishermen's daughters, had an objection to the kisses of a man, and -especially of a strange man, and he struggled to be free. - -"Where's your mother?" cried the stranger, setting Idris down. - -"She's up there," answered Idris, indicating the staircase. "But you'd -better not kiss her. She won't like it." - -The man gave a joyous laugh. - -"Won't she? Well, let us see," was his answer, and he darted swiftly up -the staircase, first calling out to the man in the gig:-- - -"See to the boy, Noel." - -"Now, my little man," said the military gentleman, "jump up here. You -are going for a sail in that pretty ship yonder in the bay." - -Idris' eyes sparkled at this enchanting prospect. - -"But I can't go without my mother." - -"Oh, she's coming too; your father as well." - -"My father?" laughed Idris. "Why, my father is in----" - -He checked the word "prison" upon his lips, and substituted for it the -euphemism, "Over there." - -"By God! that's where he'll be again, unless he hurries," cried the -military gentleman. "That's your father who has just run up-stairs." - -His father up-stairs! The day had been a succession of surprises to -Idris, and this was the climax of them all. He had never known such an -exciting time. Deaf to the gentleman's command to ascend the vehicle he -turned and scampered hastily up to his mother's sitting-room, where he -beheld a sight that struck him dumb. - -The stranger was standing in the middle of the room with Mrs. -Breakspear in his arms, her cheek pillowed on his breast. - -"Eric, O, Eric!" she murmured: and the pure joy of that moment -transfigured her face with the light and beauty of an angel's. - -"Edith, my sweet wife!" cried the man pressing her lips to his. "This -kiss is a compensation for all I have suffered. There! you mustn't -faint. Why, here's our boy. What a fine fellow he is becoming! Well, -Idris, what do you think of your father and his court dress?" - -Idris' face fell as he surveyed the newcomer. This man with his -close-cropped head, grimy visage, stubbly beard, and half-savage air, -his father! Beneath the grey ulster there peeped out the prison livery, -clad in which garb divine Apollo himself would lose all grace and -majesty. - -Eric Marville was not slow to read the thoughts of his little son, and -he smiled grimly. - -"Upon my word, he stares as if I were some wild animal. I verily -believe I am: prison life grinds every trace of the godlike out of a -man.--But come, Edith, we haven't a moment to lose. You can hear that -they have discovered my escape," he continued, as another boom rolled -over the moorland. "Rochefort was for hurrying me on board his yacht at -once, but it wasn't likely that I would leave you and the boy behind, -when you were so close at hand. Come, Edith and Idris, wife and son, -come! Away to a new life in a new land!" - -At that moment there came from without the warning voice of Captain -Rochefort. - -"Marville! Marville," he roared. "Look to yourself. They're here." - -As he spoke quick footsteps came clattering over the pavement of -the Rue Grande, and the ping-ping of carbine shots rang out on the -night-air. The bullets were intended for the Captain, but missed their -mark; and the mare taking fright at the report set off at a gallop, -followed by the pursuers, who were on foot. - -"Halt!" shouted an authoritative voice. "Let the car go; that's not the -quarry. Our man's in here; this is his wife's abode. Through the house, -two of you, and guard the rear. Two of you watch the front. Leave the -rest to me. I'll unearth him." - -The man who gave these commands rushed through the doorway of the -harbour-master's dwelling, and, as if guided by instinct, neglected -the lower storey and made his way up the staircase. - -All this took place so quickly that Marville was for the moment -paralyzed with surprise, and stood motionless and silent, with his -scared wife clinging to him. - -"Don't make any resistance, Eric, dearest," she pleaded. "It will be -better not." - -Springing from his lethargy Marville put aside the arms of his wife and -made for the open window, only to perceive two watchful gendarmes in -the street below, who instantly levelled their carbines at sight of the -convict's face. - -The only other outlet from the room was through the doorway: but there, -framed within the entrance and pistol in hand, stood a grey-haired, -fine looking veteran, clad in military uniform, Duclair, governor of -the prison, who, alive to his responsibility, had himself joined in the -chase. - -"Run to earth," he said, with a grim smile. "You're fairly cornered. -It's no use resisting." - -"We'll see about that," muttered Marville, pulling forth a revolver--a -recent gift of Rochefort's--with the intention of forcing his way over -the disabled or dead body of the governor. - -"Drop that, or by----" and Duclair punctuated the sentence with the -significant raising of his own weapon. - -Seeing the pistol levelled Mrs. Breakspear, with uplifted arms, flung -herself forward to shield her husband. - -Simultaneously with her movement came a deadly click from Marville's -weapon, followed instantly by a loud bang. The report was accompanied -by a cry of "Ah! Eric!" and by the fall of a body--sounds that sent a -cold thrill to the hearts of those who heard them. - -There, amid faint wreaths of bluish smoke, lay Mrs. Breakspear, -prostrate on the carpet, her forehead disfigured by a spot from which -came the slow ooze of blood. - -"O, you have shot my mother!" wailed Idris, casting a look of anguish -at his father. - -The little fellow dropped on his knees beside her, but it was only a -piece of clay upon which he now gazed: his mother was gone forever: was -as much a part of the past as the dead Cæsars of history. Dread change, -and all the work of a moment! - -"Edith! my wife! O God, I have killed her!" - -Dropping the weapon Eric Marville staggered forward to lift up the dead -form and implore forgiveness from her who was beyond power to grant it, -but ere he could reach the fallen figure, strong hands were laid upon -him, and a pair of steel manacles was clasped upon his wrists. - -"_Mon Dieu!_ who has done this?" cried one of the gendarmes, appalled -at the sight. - -"The prisoner," responded the governor. "Take notice, all of you, that -my weapon is undischarged." - -The gendarmes lifted the silent form and laid it upon a couch, and -there Idris knelt, sobbing bitterly and calling upon his mother to -speak. - -"My poor boy," said the governor, after a brief inspection of the body, -"she will never speak again.--We ought," he added, turning to address -his men, "we ought to send for a doctor, though he can do no good, for -she is stone dead." - -There was but one doctor in Quilaix, and he, Idris explained amid his -tears, had gone with the procession to the Pardon. - -"We must have some woman to attend to the body," continued Duclair. "We -can't return to Valàgenêt leaving the boy alone with a corpse. Surely -all the women folk haven't gone to this cursed Pardon?" - -Idris, as well as his grief would let him, explained where a woman was -likely to be found, and a gendarme was at once despatched to fetch her. - -The man who had done the deed offered now no resistance to his captors. -His desire for liberty had fled. Overwhelmed by the awful result of his -own act he had sunk into a stupor, staring with glassy eyes at that -which but a few minutes before had been a living woman. - -Touched by the spectacle of his grief they allowed him to sit beside -her; and, as he showed a desire to clasp her hand, the governor made a -sign to one of the party to remove the manacles. - -This done, he sat holding the limp fingers within his own, pressing -them as if expecting the pressure to be returned. - -The gendarmes stood aloof in pitying silence. Not even the governor -spoke, feeling the emptiness of any attempt at consolation. - -As for Idris, he shrank, not unnaturally, from the man who had killed -his mother. Once he addressed to him a piteous reproach:--"Oh, why did -you come here?--Oh, mother, mother, speak to me!" - -Absorbed in his own grief, however, the man did not hear, or, at least, -did not reply to this plaint. It was a melancholy scene, and the men -awaited with secret impatience the coming of the woman to end the -oppressive spell. - -The silence was broken by the prisoner himself. All bent forward to -listen, but the words spoken conveyed no intelligible meaning to his -hearers. For, in a cold, mechanical voice, that sounded like the -monotone of a mournful bell, he murmured over and over again:-- - -"The curse of the runic ring! The curse of the runic ring!" - - * * * * * * - -Next day the Minister of the Interior received the following telegram -from the Governor of Valàgenêt Prison:-- - - - "Regret to state that convict, Eric Marville, escaped last night, - by connivance of warder, bribed by Captain Noel Rochefort, who, - with light vehicle, waited at prearranged time near prison. Owing - to mist, two men some time in meeting, thus enabling pursuers to - overtake them at 6, Rue Grande, Quilaix. Here Marville, resisting - capture, accidentally shot his wife dead. Prisoner conveyed back - to Valàgenêt under guard of four gendarmes. On lonely part of moor - escort assailed by Rochefort and six men. Suddenness of attack - and numerical superiority enabled assailants to effect rescue. - Prisoner carried off, presumably, on board _Nemesis_, as she - steamed off immediately afterwards." - - -END OF PROLOGUE - - - - -THE STORY - - - - -CHAPTER I - -THE RAVENGARS OF RAVENHALL - - -The Ravengars of Ormsby-on-Sea, a town on the Northumbrian coast, come -of an ancient stock; for, as students of the Gospel according to St. -Burke are aware, the original Ravengar antedates by two centuries that -Ultima Thule of heraldry, the Norman Conquest. - -Yet, though so ancient a race, one, moreover, that has taken part in -all the great events of English History, it was not until the days of -the Merry Monarch that the Ravengars entered the charmed and charming -circle of the peerage. - -At the battle of Naseby that gallant and loyal cavalier, Lancelot -Ravengar, contrived to disfigure the face of the great Protector by a -sword-cut that left behind it a scar for life. So valuable a service to -the State merited right royal recognition. "Something must be done for -Ravengar," said the courtiers of the Restoration. That something took -the shape of a patent of nobility, a favour the more readily granted by -the Monarch, inasmuch as it cost him nothing. So the heretofore plain -Lancelot Ravengar became the noble Viscount Walden, and at a later -date was advanced to the Earldom of Ormsby, a title derived from the -Northumbrian sea-town, whose rents and leases supplied him with the -wealth requisite to maintain his dignity. - -This Lancelot Ravengar deserves mention, as being not only the first -peer of the family, but likewise the originator of a very curious -funeral rite instituted by his testamentary authority. - -When the Civil War broke out in Charles's days, Ravenhall, the seat -of the Ravengars, shared the fate of many other historic mansions: it -was besieged by the Puritan soldiery, and notwithstanding a gallant -defence, was forced to yield to the foe. Its owner, Lancelot, however, -was fortunate enough to escape to a secret subterranean chamber, -specially made for such emergencies, where, in addition to the family -heirlooms, provisions for many weeks had been stored. The Roundheads, -not finding the Cavalier after a long and careful search, concluded -that he had fled. - -For several days the victors remained at Ravenhall feasting and -drinking; and then, larder and wine cellar failing them, they proceeded -to plunder and dismantle the place "for the glory of the Lord," and so -took their departure. - -Now, during this period of hiding, Lancelot, with no companion but -a Bible, had ample leisure for meditation. The seclusion became the -turning-point in his spiritual life: from that time the hitherto -careless Cavalier developed religious tendencies which were not to be -shaken by all the gibes of the Merry Monarch. - -The place of his conversion naturally became invested with more than -ordinary interest in the eyes of Lancelot Ravengar: he spent much -of his time there in contemplation and prayer, becoming at last so -attached to the spot as to desire it for his place of sepulture. - -Accordingly, his last will and testament enjoined that not only his own -body, but the bodies likewise of his successors in the earldom should -be buried in the secret vault. This rite constituted the condition -of an entail, inasmuch as neglect on the part of the next of kin to -inter his predecessor in this chamber necessitated the forfeiture of -the inheritance. The will furthermore directed that the secret ingress -to this crypt should not be made known to more than four persons at a -time, viz: the then earl, his heir-apparent, the family lawyer, and -any fourth person whom these three should choose to take into their -confidence. - -When an Earl of Ormsby died his body was carried to the mortuary chapel -on the estate, where the burial service of the Anglican Church was -read. The coffin was then carried back to Ravenhall: all the servants, -without exception, were dismissed for the day, and the four executors -proceeded to remove the body to the secret crypt. - -Such was the singular testament of Lancelot Ravengar, first Earl -of Ormsby, and its injunctions were faithfully observed by all his -successors in the title. - -Some years prior to the events related in the prologue of this story, -the dignity of the family was represented by Urien Ravengar, the tenth -peer. He was the father of Olave, Viscount Walden, who, as being the -only son, and heir to the title and estates, was naturally the object -of his father's affection. The old earl did not keep a steward, being -content to leave his affairs in the hands of the young viscount, who -consequently managed his father's correspondence, all letters addressed -to the earl being freely opened by the son. - -Then came a memorable day in the annals of the House of Ravengar. - -A letter arrived for the Earl bearing the postmark of a town in Kent. -Olave, who was passing through the entrance-hall at the time of its -delivery, took it from the servant, and, following his usual practice -in regard to his father's letters, opened it. - -As he read he was observed to change colour, and to become strangely -agitated. - -Taking the letter with him he went at once to his father's study. - -What passed there no one ever learned, save that there were high words -between the two. That in itself was nothing new, the Ravengars being -noted for their proud spirit. In the end the study-door was flung open -by the earl who, with a face flaming with anger, cried:-- - -"Leave the house." - -Olave, with a scornful glance at his father, obeyed. - -He went forth, saying nothing to any one as to the cause of the -rupture, making no mention of his destination or plans. Without a word -of farewell he disappeared from Ormsby. To all who had known him he -became as one dead. - -Every Sunday the earl, while at Ormsby, attended the parish church with -commendable regularity, but vainly did he try to assume a brave air: -it was clear to all that he felt the loss of his son, and that he was -aging in consequence. - -Five--seven--ten years rolled away, and now the old earl lay dying in -his grand bedchamber at Ravenhall. A wild evening had set in, and the -herring-fishers, on the point of sailing for the Dogger Bank, put off -their expedition for more propitious weather. - -The dying man moaned uneasily. His mind was wandering, and he -frequently murmured the name of the absent Olave. - -Louder and ever louder grew the wind, till at length it arose to a -gale. The gloom of night was illumined by vivid lightning-flashes -accompanied by peals of thunder. The distant roar of the sea could be -plainly heard at Ravenhall. News came that a yacht, supposed to be -French, was foundering upon the rocks of Ormsby Race in full sight -of hundreds of spectators on the beach, who were powerless to give -help. None of the servants at Ravenhall, however, felt disposed to go -and view the wreck: their master's death, which was hourly expected, -affected them far more than the drowning of a hundred strangers. -They clustered in the entrance-hall, waiting for the fatal news, and -conversing in hushed tones. - -Suddenly, out of the darkness, there stalked into the entrance-hall a -lofty figure, drenched to the skin, without hat or cloak, his long hair -lying wet and lank on his pale cheek. - -He looked neither to right nor left, asked no question of the startled -servants, but passed quickly up the grand staircase with the air of one -to whom the way was familiar, with the air of one, too, who had the -right to do as he did. Like the electric flash, he had come and gone in -a moment. - -"Lord save us!" gasped the butler, a lifelong servitor of the family. -"Here's Master Olave come back after all these years!" - -Olave it was. He had evidently received some intimation of his father's -condition, for he walked to the bedroom where the earl lay dying. To -the three persons at the bedside, physician, nurse, and rector, he was -a stranger, but his likeness to the patient was sufficiently striking -to apprise them at once of the relationship. - -The viscount, keeping in the background, addressed himself to the -physician. - -"How is he?" - -"Sinking fast." - -"Is his mind clear?" - -"Now it is. He wandered earlier in the evening." - -"Then leave us, please." - -There was something so authoritative in the viscount's manner that the -three watchers were constrained to obey. - -What took place in their absence was never known. The interview was -of short duration, and ended in a cry from the earl, which brought -physician and nurse hurrying into the apartment. - -"He is dead," said Olave. - -There was no trace of sorrow in his voice, nor, in justice be it added, -of satisfaction: a quiet, impassive utterance. - -He stood with folded arms till his words had been endorsed by the -physician, and then, without so little as a glance at the dead earl, -the living earl strode from the apartment. - -The nurse closed the eyes of her charge, shuddering as she did so, for -the countenance of the dead man was marked by a ferocity of expression -which showed that his last feelings were those of hatred. - -A rumour soon arose that the old earl had died in the very act of -cursing his son. The rumour may have been false, but certain it is that -the new earl took no pains to contradict it. - -Urien, tenth Earl of Ormsby, was interred according to the rite -instituted by the first peer: and the returned Olave, after giving the -family solicitor sufficient proof of his identity, assumed his station -as master of Ravenhall. - -Where he had spent the previous ten years was a mystery to everybody -except, perhaps, his lawyer. The earl maintained absolute reticence as -to this part of his career, and the sternness of his manner when the -question was once put to him by an indiscreet lady, checked all further -attempts on the part of the inquisitive. - -He somewhat scandalised the good folk of Ormsby by marrying within two -months of his father's death the daughter of a neighbouring baronet. -His wedded life did not last long. Within a year his wife died, leaving -an infant son named Ivar. - -Henceforth the earl remained single. - -He had sadly changed from the lively youth whose pranks had been a -constant source of merriment to the people of Ormsby. - -His long absence had developed a cold and unsympathetic temperament -which led him to avoid society; and though he did not refrain from -giving an occasional dinner or ball, he was evidently bored by these -social offices. He found his greatest pleasure in the seclusion of the -magnificent library at Ravenhall. He withdrew himself more and more -from the world of men to the world of books. - -More than two decades went by, and the mystery which overhung the earl, -became a thing of the past, was forgotten by the people of Ormsby, or -at least was rarely recalled. Gossip occupied itself chiefly with the -doings of the earl's only son, Ivar, or to give him his courtesy title, -Viscount Walden, who was now in his twentieth year. - -To this son the earl appeared much attached: he designed him, so it was -rumoured, for the diplomatic service: and to this end Ivar, accompanied -by a tutor, was supposed to be travelling on the continent, perfecting -himself in foreign languages, and studying on the spot the workings of -the various European constitutions. - -All the collateral branches of the Ravengars had died out with the -exception of one family, and even this was limited to a single -person--Beatrice, daughter of Victor Ravengar. This Victor, the earl's -cousin in the sixth degree, had taken as his wife a widow with one son, -Godfrey by name. Beatrice was the sole issue of this marriage. - -The earl was naturally much interested in this little maiden as being -next in succession after his son: and accordingly when Beatrice became -an orphan at the age of sixteen (her parents having died within a month -of each other), the earl invited her and her half-brother, Godfrey -Rothwell--her senior by seven years--to take up their residence at -Ravenhall, offering to settle a handsome annuity upon each. - -But to the earl's surprise the favour was declined both by brother and -sister. It had happened that Mrs. Victor Ravengar had never been a very -welcome visitor at Ravenhall, the marriage having been regarded by the -earl as a mésalliance: and though Beatrice was of a forgiving nature, -she could not entirely forget sundry slights put upon her mother. - -Godfrey was determined not to eat the bread of dependency, and -Beatrice, who was devoted to her half-brother, sympathized with him -in this feeling, and refused to live apart from him. He had applied -himself to the study of medicine, and had lately set up in practice -at Ormsby. In Beatrice, Godfrey found a ready assistant. She helped -him in his surgery, often accompanied him when visiting his patients, -and never hesitated to take upon herself the duty of nurse if occasion -required. Hence she was all but worshipped by the people of Ormsby; the -earl might take their rents, but Beatrice possessed their hearts, and -often was regret expressed that it should be Viscount Walden, and not -Beatrice Ravengar, who must succeed to the fair demesne of Ravenhall. - -"Absolutely no more patients to visit," remarked Godfrey Rothwell, -returning home one afternoon to his neat little villa, called Wave -Crest. - -"Charming!" said Beatrice, clapping her hands. "It is so long since we -had an evening together." - -"Humph!" muttered Godfrey, lugubriously. "But we are doomed not to -spend it together. We have received an invitation to dine this evening -at Ravenhall, where a small and select company is assembling to welcome -Master Ivar home. He returns to-night from the continent. The earl's -carriage will call for us at six, so we can't very well decline." - -Beatrice pouted her pretty lips. Simple in her tastes, unconventional -in her habits, she disliked the stately banquets, the funereal -grandeur, of Ravenhall. She would not, however, oppose her brother, and -that same night found them both within the drawing-room of Ravenhall, -conversing with their distant kinsman, the Earl of Ormsby. - -He was a man verging upon sixty; his hair and moustache were of an iron -grey; his eyes somewhat dimmed by long study; his features fine and -striking, but marked by an air of profound melancholy. - -He received Godfrey kindly, and made inquiries as to his medical -practice, but it was clear to all that his interest centred chiefly in -Beatrice, whom he kissed with an old-fashioned courtesy. - -Beatrice's figure was small and graceful, and her features, if not -precisely regular, were nevertheless very pretty, and rendered more -attractive by the sparkling colour and the vivacious expression -that played over them. She wore an evening dress of white silk with -a cluster of violets at her breast, a diamond star gleaming in her -bronzed hair, which was tied in a knot behind in antique Greek fashion. -In Godfrey's opinion his sister had never looked more charming than on -this evening. - -"You have the fairest face in all the county," said the old earl, -tenderly stroking her hair. "I wish that Ivar would think so," he added -significantly. - -It was not the first time that he had given expression to this wish in -the presence of Beatrice. - -"Did you notice what he said, Trixie," said Godfrey, when he had found -an opportunity of whispering to her. "He wants to see you married to -Ivar." - -But Beatrice Ravengar tossed her head in scorn. - -"No one who has sneered at you, as Ivar has, shall ever be husband of -mine, though he bring with him title and lands. It will require some -one a good deal better than Ivar to separate you and me, Godfrey," she -said, pressing his arm affectionately. - -Godfrey felt justly proud of his sister's attachment. How many women, -he thought, would willingly have thrown over a poor struggling medico -of a brother, and have become wild with joy at the idea of obtaining a -coronet and the stately towers of Ravenhall? - -Godfrey wondered, and not for the first time, why the earl should -desire this match, since Beatrice was portionless, and, therefore, from -a worldly point of view, no very desirable alliance for the heir of -the Ravengars. Godfrey had never quite taken to the earl: in fact, he -had a secret distrust of him, he could not tell why: and he refused to -believe that that peer's attitude towards Beatrice was dictated by pure -disinterestedness, though it was difficult to see how either the earl -or Ivar would be advantaged by the match. - -While Godfrey was occupied with these thoughts, the butler appeared -with the message that the keeper of the lodge had announced by -telephone the arrival of the viscount's carriage at the park-gates. - -"Let us give the heir of Ravenhall a welcome at his own portal," said -Lord Ormsby, rising; and without delay the company made their way -to the grand entrance-hall, where the butler, the housekeeper, and -the rest of the servants, were assembled to do honour to the young -viscount's return. - -On the panelled wall within the Gothic doorway, and suspended by a -silver chain, was a bugle of ivory, wrought with gold, and decorated -with runic letters. - -It was a relic of ancient days, credited to have belonged originally to -the old Norse chieftain who had founded the House of Ravengar. Owing to -the peculiar construction of this bugle some practice was required by -those desirous of blowing it. Indeed, it was a family tradition that -in former times the only persons gifted with the power of sounding it -were the lord of Ravenhall and his immediate heir, all others essaying -the feat being foredoomed to failure. Hence, in mediæval times, when -the lords of Ravenhall returned from a Crusade, or some other equally -protracted war, it was their practice to sound this horn as a guarantee -of the legitimacy of their title. - -"We will greet the heir in the ancient fashion of our house," cried the -earl, a great upholder of the traditional usages of his family. "Pass -me the bugle. Jocelyn, the wine!" - -The butler, who was standing by, holding a silver tray with a decanter -on it, poured some port into the broad funnel-shaped end of the horn, -the tight-fitting silver cap over the mouthpiece preventing the -emission of the liquid. - -"Custom enjoins that a lady should hand the bugle to the returning -heir, and wish him welcome," said Lord Ormsby, fixing his eyes on -Beatrice. - -With some reluctance she accepted the bugle from the hand of the earl, -who briefly instructed her--Beatrice being not very well versed in -the Ravengar traditions--as to the form of words to be used in this -ceremony. - -The rattle of wheels was now heard coming along the avenue of -chestnuts, and amid murmurs of "Here he is!" from those assembled at -the porch, a brougham rolled up. When it had stopped, there alighted -a figure, fair, slight, and, though youthful, of decidedly _blasé_ -appearance. He was dressed in a light travelling ulster, and held a -cigar between his fingers, throwing it away, however, as soon as he -beheld the company. - -"Welcome, Ivar," said the earl, warmly returning the clasp of his -son's hand: and then, waving him towards Beatrice, he continued, "But -one moment: we must not neglect the ancient custom of our house. Now, -Beatrice, you know the words." - -And Beatrice, holding aloft the horn of wine, in an attitude that -displayed all the grace of her figure, approached the young viscount. - -"Is it peace, O heir of Ravenhall?" - -"It is peace, O lady fair," replied the viscount, using the words of -the traditional formula. - -"Then drink of thine own, O heir of Ravenhall," continued Beatrice, -extending the bugle to him. - -"To the souls of the departed warriors," replied Ivar, tossing off the -contents at one draught. "Hum! port. Very good liquor for boys; but, I -confess, I like my _aliquid amari_ stronger." - -This last sentence formed no part of the Ravengar ritual, and the earl, -who liked everything _en régle_, frowned slightly. - -"Now prove thy title, heir of Ravenhall." - -"Prove it? Ay, with a blast that shall rival that of the immortal -Roland." - -Removing the silver cap from the narrow end of the bugle, and placing -the mouthpiece to his lips, Ivar blew with all his might. But no sound -issued from the horn other than that of a faint soughing. The viscount, -surprised at this result, removed the bugle from his mouth, and eyed it -curiously. Then, thinking he had perhaps employed too much force, he -blew again, but this time more gently. - -The bugle continued silent. The company looked at each other in -surprise, tinged with amusement. The earl, however, seemed to take it -much amiss. Beatrice found his eyes set upon her, and upon her only, -with a look that made her feel uncomfortable, for it somehow conveyed -to her mind the idea that he was mentally blaming _her_ for his son's -failure! - -"This is a very serious matter, you know," said the viscount, looking -round upon the company with an air of mock gravity. "The ancestral -bugle refuses--positively refuses--to acknowledge me as the heir of -Ravenhall." - -"Try again, Ivar," said the earl. - -"Not I. Devil take the bugle," exclaimed Ivar laughing. "Let us read -a parable in my failure. In days of old the blast of the horn was the -sign of battle; its silence implies that we Ravengars have no longer -to vindicate our title by arms. But it permits me to drink, thereby -symbolizing that peace and festivity are now to be our lot. Have I not -said?" he added, theatrically, turning to his father. "And now, this -fantasia being over---- Why? what? is this little Trixie?" - -Till that moment he had not recognized Beatrice, so much did she differ -from her appearance when last seen by him; but now that recognition -came, he stopped short in surprise at her loveliness. - -"Trixie!" he repeated. - -He bent forward as if to kiss her, but, with quiet dignity, Beatrice -drew back, offering her hand. - -"What, and must we dispense with the sweet greeting of old days? Nay, -then." - -And with this he seized her in his arms, and pressed his lips to hers -in kisses of a distinctly vinous flavour. - -"How dare you?" exclaimed Beatrice, breaking breathlessly and -indignantly from his embrace. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -THE MYSTERY OF THE RELIQUARY - - -Ivar, with a laugh at Beatrice's indignation, turned his attention to -the brougham, apparently with a view of superintending the removal of -his _impedimenta_. - -"O, never mind your luggage," said the earl, in some surprise. "Jocelyn -will see to that." - -But Ivar, ignoring the suggestion, was concentrating all his care upon -what seemed to be a long box wrapped in a covering of coarse linen. -This a footman was bringing into the hall upon his shoulders, and -while giving his burden a jerk to place it in a position more easy for -carrying, the cloth, by some mischance, became partly ripped open. - -A half-smothered exclamation and an angry glance at the awkward footman -were eloquently expressive of Ivar's annoyance. - -"Eh! what have we here?" said the earl, motioning the bearer to lay -down his burden. - -He removed the cloth, and all crowded round to admire the richness -and beauty of the object thus revealed to view. It was a chest of -black wood bound at the corners with silver. The lid and sides were -divided into compartments, carved with alto-relievos of a decidedly -ecclesiastical character. - -"This is a very fine work of art," said Lord Ormsby, who was somewhat -of an authority on antiquities. Putting on his _pince-nez_ he stooped -to examine the chest more closely. "French, I should judge, of the -fourteenth century. What wood is it?" - -"Cypress." - -Godfrey did not fail to notice Ivar's somewhat sullen intonation. - -"And the cypress," remarked the earl, "is the emblem of death. This -chest is evidently one of those shrines in which mediæval folk put the -relics of their saints." - -"Yes, it is a reliquary." - -"How did you become its possessor?" - -"I bought it from the sacristan of an old church in Brittany. Whence -he obtained it is perhaps easy to guess. Naturally I refrained from -questioning him too closely." - -Lord Ormsby shot a curious glance at his son. - -"O, did you extend your tour to Brittany, then?" he observed: -after which he refrained from further remarks, becoming silent -and thoughtful, as if his mind had been stirred by some troubling -reminiscence. - -"Does it still contain the bones of the saint?" asked Godfrey, -jocularly. - -"It contains souvenirs of my continental tour--nothing more," replied -Ivar with a dark glance, as if inviting the surgeon to mind his own -business. - -And then, apparently impatient of further questions, he cut the matter -short by motioning the man to take up the chest again, and he himself -led the way up the grand staircase to his own bedroom, where, after -seeing the precious reliquary locked within a wardrobe, he seemed to be -more at ease. - -The irritation betrayed by Ivar over this incident puzzled Beatrice, -and left a somewhat disagreeable impression upon her mind. - -"Master Ivar," she whispered to her brother, "was trying to smuggle -that chest into Ravenhall. Why should he desire to conceal the fact -that he is bringing home a reliquary? Depend upon it, the chest -contains something that he does not wish his father to see. What can it -be?" - -During the course of the dinner that followed, Ivar was the principal -speaker, rattling off various incidents of his continental tour. - -There was nothing particularly edifying or brilliant in these -reminiscences, but Lord Ormsby evidently thought otherwise: for, from -time to time he would turn to his guests with an air of pride, as if -inviting them to take note of his son's remarks. - -"That is one good trait in the earl's character," thought Beatrice. -"He has great affection for his son. I doubt very much whether the son -deserves it." - -When, at a late hour, she and her brother rose to take their departure, -so heavy a storm was raging that the earl pressed them to stay for the -night, and to this arrangement Godfrey and his sister assented, the -former little foreseeing that his stay would have a remarkable bearing -on the events of the future. - -"Well, Ivar," said the earl, when the two found themselves alone. "What -do you think of Beatrice?" - -"She has grown devilishly handsome." - -"She is a girl whom any man might be proud to marry." - -Ivar was resting his head upon his hand, and his face was hidden in -shadow: therefore the earl did not perceive the sudden change in his -son's expression. - -"Marry?" echoed the viscount. - -"I want to see you married, Ivar, and to no one but Beatrice." - -"The devil!" muttered Ivar uneasily; and then, aloud, he added, "Does -Trixie know of this wish of yours?" - -"I have occasionally hinted at it." - -"Her manner towards me to-night can scarcely be called encouraging. She -was decidedly cold and standoffish." - -"Perseverance on your part will soon overcome her indifference." - -"If I must take a wife, why must she be cousin Trixie, seeing that she -hasn't a penny to bless herself with?" - -"She is richer than you or I," said the earl, with a dry laugh. "Ivar, -I am about to tell you a secret, the knowledge of which will soon cause -you to waive your objection--if you have any--to this match." - -"Richer than I," thought Ivar. "What does the old fool mean?" - -The earl seemed ill at ease. He remained silent for several minutes, -evidently debating within himself as to the wisdom of disclosing the -secret. At last, after glancing all around the apartment, as if to make -certain that no one was within hearing, he bent forward in his chair -towards Ivar, and began to speak in a low tone. The communication took -a long time in the telling, and when it was ended, the viscount sat in -silence with a look of consternation on his face. - -Recovering from his amazement he muttered hoarsely, "Why have you not -told me of this before?" - -"You were not of an age to hear it. You are old enough now to -understand the virtues of silence and secrecy." - -"And this, this son--what did you call him, Idris?--where is he now?" - -For reply Lord Ormsby produced from the bookcase a copy of the _Times_ -newspaper, dated seven years previously. - -One of its columns was headed, "Terrible fire at Paris. Burning of the -_Hôtel de l'Univers_." The earl's forefinger, moving down a list of -victims, stopped at the name, "Idris Marville, aged 23." - -Ivar's features relaxed something of their dismay. - -"Satisfactory from my point of view," he muttered. - -"None but you and I know this secret, but it is perpetually open to -discovery as long as that church and its records exist. You now see the -necessity for this match with Beatrice. Ravenhall and the coronet are -really hers. Marry her then, and you will thus secure your position as -lord of Ravenhall.--What is your answer?" - -"Humph! Suppose it'll have to be." - -The sullen look on Ivar's face caused his father to elevate his -eyebrows in surprise. It certainly _did_ seem strange that the -viscount, who had pronounced Beatrice to be "devilishly handsome," -should evince dissatisfaction at the prospect of marrying her! - - * * * * * * - -The sleeping apartment allotted to Godfrey Rothwell contained the most -luxurious bed he had ever occupied, and he speedily fell into a sound -sleep, from which he was abruptly roused by a noise in the corridor -outside his bedroom door. - -He sat up and listened. Before stepping into bed he had switched off -the electric light, but the darkness now became faintly illumined by a -horizontal line of light appearing at the foot of the door. Its origin -was obvious: some one was walking in the corridor and bearing a lamp or -candle. - -The line of light had no sooner appeared than it disappeared, showing -that the person had passed by. - -Moved by the thought that it might be a burglar, Godfrey stepped -quietly from his bed, and cautiously opening the door to the extent of -a few inches, peeped out. - -There, a few feet distant, with his back towards him, was Viscount -Walden moving quietly along the corridor. Evidently he had not been to -bed, for he was still wearing the dress suit he had worn at dinner: to -it he had added a hard felt hat, into the brim of which there was stuck -a lighted candle, after the fashion of a Cornish miner. - -With both hands he was half-dragging, half-carrying the cypress chest -about which he had displayed so much concern. It was the accidental -fall of this reliquary that had roused Godfrey from sleep. - -Now, when a young man is detected in the dead of night stealing along -with a reliquary that he has tried to introduce surreptitiously into -his father's house, it may be inferred that he is actuated by a bad -motive; such, at least, was Godfrey's inference. Accordingly, though -conscious of the meanness of espionage, yet, moved by a feeling for -which he could not account, he resolved to follow the viscount, and -ascertain, if possible, the meaning of this strange proceeding. - -Waiting till Ivar had turned a corner of the corridor, Godfrey, having -hurriedly slipped into his clothes, stole forth in his stockinged feet -and followed at a distance, lurking within the shadows, and exercising -the utmost vigilance to prevent himself from being seen. Fortunately, -there were at intervals, various pieces of furniture, as well as -curtains and recesses, of all which Godfrey took prompt advantage -whenever Ivar seemed on the point of giving a backward glance. - -The viscount's course, after he had left the corridor in which the -bedrooms were situated, conducted him down a staircase and along a -second corridor, this latter terminating at the door of the Picture -Gallery. Here he paused, and sat down upon the box to rest himself. He -was no athlete, and the moving of this heavy chest was a tax upon his -strength. - -By the grim and dismal circle of light shed around by the taper in -Ivar's hat Godfrey could see that the viscount's face was pale and -marked by an expression of fear, and that he gave a start at the sudden -coughing of the night wind among the trees without. - -Some of the fear manifested by him seemed to pass over to Godfrey, who -found himself becoming strangely suspicious as to the contents of the -chest. The secrecy observed by the viscount was extremely suggestive -of the theory of crime. Was the reliquary the receptacle of guilty -evidence which Ivar, unable to dispose of elsewhere, was bringing to -Ravenhall as the safest place of concealment? - -The reliquary itself, apart altogether from the consideration of its -contents, had something gruesome about it. Though the exterior carvings -were mediæval in character, Godfrey, who was somewhat of a connoisseur -on wood, had felt, when surveying the chest at the entrance-hall, that -it was far more ancient than the middle ages: with that durability -peculiar to cypress wood, the chest might have seen the classic days of -Greece: differing little in shape from an Egyptian mummy-case, it might -have held the embalmed remains of a Rameses: nay, its antiquity perhaps -antedated the very Pyramids themselves! - -He had ample leisure for these reflections, for the viscount, having -once seated himself, seemed loth to move forward again. - -At last, pulling out a spirit flask, Ivar took a deep draught, and, -rising to his feet, produced a key with which he unlocked the door of -the Picture Gallery. - -Then, lifting the reliquary by means of a silver ring affixed to the -lid, he proceeded to traverse the entire length of the hall, dragging -his burden with him. - -Godfrey, who was no stranger to the place, surmised that the -viscount's journey was almost at an end, since the gallery terminated -in a room from which Ivar would have no egress, except by the same door -that he was now approaching. - -The viscount's first act on entering the room was to close the door. -Upon this Godfrey glided swiftly forward, and falling upon one knee, -endeavoured to obtain a glimpse of the interior by applying his eye to -the keyhole. In this he was thwarted by the key in the lock, and though -the key was on his side of the door, he hesitated to remove it, lest -the sound should attract Ivar's attention. - -Godfrey could detect no light within the chamber, and therefore he -assumed that Ivar must have extinguished his taper. - -Why? - -Godfrey placed his ear to the door. No sound came from within. If -the room contained an occupant, that occupant was motionless, or, if -moving, was moving silently and in the dark. - -Then suddenly it occurred to him that perhaps Ivar had quitted the -chamber by a secret exit known only to himself. - -Godfrey grew perplexed, impatient. In standing thus inactive he was -losing the chance of discovering the viscount's secret. Still, Ivar -might be within, and the surgeon deemed it imprudent to push open the -door. - -A way of solving the difficulty presented itself. He suddenly turned -the key in the lock, clicking it loudly, to the end that, if Ivar were -really within, he could not fail to learn that he was now a prisoner. - -Godfrey listened. There was no cry of surprise: no hasty rush of feet -to the door: no movement at all. After waiting a few moments, he came -to the conclusion that the room was untenanted. - -He turned the key, and pushed open the door. - -Aided by a subdued light, tender and dreamy, that stole through a -latticed casement, he had visible proof that the chamber was devoid of -anything in human shape. The cypress chest had also vanished. - -No way of egress was visible save by the window; but Ivar had not made -his exit by this, as the state of its fastenings clearly showed. His -disappearance was obviously due to the existence of some secret passage. - -Godfrey, loth to turn back now that he had come thus far, resolved to -make an examination of the room, even at the risk of being discovered -by the returning Ivar. - -He began his search with the fireplace. - -Surely some propitious fairy was directing his steps! A long slab of -stone, that formed one side of the fireplace, had sunk to the level -of the hearth, revealing a passage behind. This slab was worked by a -pulley, since he could feel at each side the ropes by which it had been -lowered; but without stopping to examine the mechanism, he entered the -passage and moved forwards through the darkness, exploring the way -before him both with hand and foot in order to guard against a possible -precipitation down a flight of stairs. The sequel justified this -precaution, for he soon found himself at the head of a flight of stone -steps. He counted forty of them before he reached the level flooring -of another passage. At the end of this a faint light could be seen -proceeding from behind a door that stood ajar. He concluded that the -viscount had at last attained his destination, and was occupied on the -task, whatever it was, that had brought him there. - -Godfrey, drawing near, ventured to take a peep through the -partly-opened door, and caught a glimpse of a large stone chamber, -octagonal in shape. From its vaulted roof hung a lighted sconce. -No window was visible, and, connecting this circumstance with the -number of stairs he had descended, Godfrey was of opinion that it was -a subterranean chamber. The floor was devoid of carpet, and the only -pieces of furniture were a table of carved oak and four antique chairs -of the same material. - -Of the eight sides of the chamber one was occupied by the doorway where -Godfrey stood: the other seven were severally pierced by recesses, -the depth of which he was unable to ascertain, since the entrance of -each was hung with a curtain of black velvet of such length that the -silver lace fringing its foot touched the floor. The curtains draping -two of the alcoves were plain: the remaining five were adorned with -lettering worked in silver thread. As he read the lettering by the -light of the flame that burned in the antique sconce Godfrey, familiar -though he was with death, dissection, and all that the non-medical mind -regards as gruesome, could not repress some uneasy sensations. That -silver lettering recorded the names and titles of the deceased Earls of -Ormsby, from Lancelot Ravengar, the first peer, to Urien Ravengar, the -tenth. - -Godfrey knew himself to be on forbidden ground. He was standing on the -threshold of the secret burial vault of the lords of Ravenhall! - -Ivar was in one of the alcoves, whither he had betaken himself with -the cypress chest, but as the curtain concealed him from view, it -was impossible for Godfrey to see what the viscount was doing. What -Godfrey heard, however, was sufficiently alarming. From the recess came -a recurrence of sounds that could be attributed only to the use of a -screw-driver. There could be no doubt that Ivar was engaged in the work -of removing one of the coffin lids, and Godfrey felt, moreover, that -this act had some connection with the contents of the reliquary. - -Was Ivar about to transfer the evidences of his guilt--for of his guilt -Godfrey now entertained no doubt--from the reliquary to one of the -coffins? There could scarcely be a safer place of concealment than a -coffin contained in a secret vault, the entrance of which was known to -four persons only. Yet this theory seemed precluded by the fact that -a coffin constructed to hold one body would not suffice for two. Ivar -could scarcely intend to carry off from the crypt the relics of one of -his ancestors, since he would have the same difficulty in disposing of -a dead earl as of less distinguished remains. - -Suddenly there came from Ivar a cry, or rather a yell; he dropped the -screw-driver, or whatever tool he was using, and thrusting aside the -black velvet curtain, staggered into the vault and tumbled into a -chair, where he sat for some moments, his eyes fixed in terror upon the -alcove from which he had emerged. - -"Bah!" he presently muttered. "What a fool I am! Yet I could swear I -heard a whisper coming from the coffin. By God! what creepy work this -is!" - -A long pull at the spirit flask seemed to infuse new courage into him. -He arose and moved again towards the alcove, though with somewhat slow -steps. - -As Ivar lifted the curtain Godfrey tried to ascertain what lay behind, -but succeeded only in catching a glimpse of the reliquary, which stood -on the floor with the taper-lit hat resting upon it. - -The viscount picked up the fallen tool and resumed the task of -screw-loosing. Then, after what seemed an age to the waiting surgeon, -the screw-driver was dropped, and Godfrey became aware that Ivar had -removed the coffin-lid, for he had placed it on the floor in such a -manner that one end of it projected beneath the curtain and appeared in -the vault. - -Godfrey was unable to tell what followed. Ivar's work, whatever its -character, was performed in silence, and lasted a considerable time. - -More than once Godfrey stole into the vault for the purpose of peering -behind the curtain, but on each occasion he did not get beyond the -table, the fear of detection restraining him from proceeding farther. - -Then, moved by a sudden impulse, he took out his penknife, and turning -to the alcove nearest the door, he quickly and silently cut off a -corner from the velvet drapery. - -"This may be of service," he thought, thrusting the fragment inside his -pocket, "if at any time it should become necessary to prove that I have -stood in the secret funeral vault of the Ravengars." - -Ivar's task was evidently coming to an end, for the coffin-lid was now -drawn from beneath the curtain into the alcove, and the peculiar sounds -caused by the application of the screw-driver recommenced. - -With their cessation Ivar reappeared from behind the curtain, wearing -his taper-lit hat again, and dragging the chest, which, judged by the -effort required for its removal, was in no way diminished from its -former weight--a circumstance which puzzled Godfrey not a little. - -He was preparing for flight, but as Ivar had seated himself in the -chair again, he was tempted to linger a moment. - -"Thank the devil that's over," said the viscount in a tone of -satisfaction, "and I hope Lorelie will be satisfied." - -"_Lorelie!_" murmured Godfrey with a start. "Lorelie! Surely he does -not mean Mademoiselle Rivière?" - -He had no time just then to consider this question, for Ivar, having -drained the few drops that remained in the flask, was now extinguishing -the flame in the sconce, preparatory to leaving the crypt. - -Godfrey immediately stole off, and succeeded in reaching his room -without detection. He went to bed again and slept soundly. - -He awoke to find the sun glinting pleasantly through the diamond panes. -The brightness of the morning had so cheering an effect on his spirits -that he felt disposed at first to regard the event of the preceding -night as the result of a dream. - -Then, his memory quickening, he thrust his hand beneath his pillow and -drew forth a piece of black velvet edged with silver lace. - -"It was no dream," he muttered, gazing at the relic. "I have really -stood in the secret burial vault of the Ravengars. What a story this -will be for Beatrice!" - -Godfrey was accustomed to make his sister his confidante in all things; -but, somehow, upon reflection, he resolved, for the present at least, -to maintain secrecy respecting Ivar's strange doings. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -IDRIS REDIVIVUS - - -"Ivar has been at home two months, yet we have had no visit from him." - -The speaker was Godfrey Rothwell, and the scene the breakfast-room of -his villa, Wave Crest. - -"Why should he visit us?" asked Beatrice. - -"Ahem! as a suitor for your hand, in compliance with his father's wish." - -"Ivar had better not insult me by such an offer." - -"An offer of marriage can scarcely be called an insult, Trixie." - -"It would be--from _him_," returned Beatrice with a heightened colour. -"I speak what I know," she added oracularly. - -She began to pour out the coffee: while Godfrey, somewhat puzzled by -her words, turned to the letters awaiting him. No sooner had he glanced -at the handwriting on the envelope of the first than he gave a great -start. - -"Heavens! have the dead returned to life?" - -He hastily broke the seal and ran his eye over the letter, while the -mystified Beatrice awaited the explanation of his words. - -"From my old college-friend, Idris Marville." - -"What?" cried Beatrice with a little scream of surprise. "Is he not -dead, then? Did he escape the fire?" - -"That's self-evident. There has been a dreadful mistake somewhere. He -will prove that he is alive by paying us a visit. In fact, he will be -here this very morning. Well, this _is_ a surprise!" - -"More--a pleasure," added his sister. - -Beatrice had never seen Idris, but she had often heard of him from -Godfrey, and knew the painful story of his boyhood. She was aware, too, -that on one occasion, Godfrey, being in pecuniary difficulties, had -applied to Idris in preference to the Earl of Ormsby, and had received -by return of post a handsome cheque. The memory of this event was still -fresh in her mind, and she was desirous of showing her gratitude to her -brother's benefactor. - -"He signs himself 'Breakspear,' I see," she said, glancing at the -signature of Idris. - -"Yes: he has dropped the name of Marville, and has taken his mother's -maiden name. It is easy to guess his reason." - -True to the promise contained in his letter Idris arrived that same -morning, and Beatrice took a good view of him from behind the curtain -of her bedroom window, as he strode up the garden path accompanied by -Godfrey. - -Twenty-three years had passed since that memorable night at Quilaix, -and Idris was now verging upon thirty--dark-eyed, handsome, athletic, -with a face bronzed by southern suns. His appearance impressed Beatrice -favourably. - -"There is nothing mean or ignoble about _him_," she murmured. - -The first greetings being ended, Idris sat down to a pleasant luncheon, -presided over by Beatrice. - -"Your name has been so often on Godfrey's lips," she said, "that you -seem quite like an old friend, though I never thought to see you after -the announcement of your death in the newspapers." - -Idris smiled. - -"Perhaps I have done wrong in letting people think that I perished in -the burning of the '_Hôtel de l'Univers_.' At the time of the fire I -was at the opera-house. On leaving I found the boulevards ringing with -the news. I bought a newspaper and discovered my own name erroneously -inserted among the list of victims. I resolved not to set the mistake -right, for it suddenly occurred to me that here was a convenient -opportunity to die--to the world. Wherever I went, the name Marville -recalled my father's crime, or rather, supposed crime. 'Let the world -think that Eric Marville's son is dead,' I thought, 'and let him begin -life anew, and under a different name.'" - -"Was the yacht _Nemesis_, in which your father escaped, never heard of -again?" asked Godfrey. - -"It vanished, leaving not a trace behind." - -"Strange! The news of your father's escape, together with a description -of the delinquent vessel, would be telegraphed to all civilized -countries. Every ocean-steamer, every seaport, would be on the watch -for the yacht, and yet you say it was never seen again." - -"Its disappearance shows how well Captain Rochefort had devised his -plans," Idris answered. - -"Since your father did not communicate with you, his only son, it -follows, almost as a matter of course, that he did not communicate with -his more distant relatives?" - -"His relatives, if he had any, are unknown to me: in fact, I am quite -in the dark as to my father's antecedents. Among all his papers there -was not one letter relating to his kinsfolk, nor any clue whatever to -indicate his history prior to his settling at Nantes in 1866." - -"You are certain that your father was English born? Because if so, his -name, and date and place of birth, together with his parents' names, -should be among the records of Somerset House." - -"I have tried Somerset House, and have traced several Eric Marvilles, -some living and some dead, but none of them could I identify as my -father. I am sometimes disposed to believe that Marville was not his -real name, but one assumed by him on settling at Nantes." - -"Cannot your mother's relatives give you any information?" - -"They, too, are ignorant of my father's origin. My mother was an -English governess at Nantes when she first met my father. A few months -after her marriage the death of an aunt endowed her with an ample -fortune, a fortune which has devolved upon me." - -"If twenty-three years have passed since your father was last heard -of," said Beatrice, "do you not think that the probabilities point to -his death? He must be dead," she added. "He would not be so unfatherly -as not to communicate with you during all these years." - -"That is my opinion--at times: and at other times I think he is still -living, but resolved, from some mistaken notion of honour, to ignore me -until he can give me the heritage of a fair name." - -"If he is alive," continued Beatrice, "he has perhaps married again, -and has children, and, though it sounds harsh to say it, other and new -interests which your appearance on the scene might embarrass." - -This was a bitter thought, but by no means new to Idris. - -"I trust I am not offending you by the question," observed Godfrey, -"but do you really, in your heart of hearts, believe that your father -was innocent?" - -"There, the torture. My mother was firmly convinced of his innocence, -and only an hour or two before her death, as if gifted with prevision, -she did her best to impress me with her belief; nay, more, she made me -take an oath that I would, on attaining manhood, use all my endeavours -to clear my father's name. Yet the thought often strikes me that I am -nursing an illusion in thinking him innocent. Who am I that I should -set up my opinion against that of the judge, the jury, and the press?" - -"And the masked man who stole the runic ring--what of him?" Godfrey -asked. - -"He, too, is a person who has eluded all my inquiries. And small -wonder! Had I been a man at the time when these events happened, -instead of a boy of seven, my investigations, begun at once, might -have met with success, whereas the long lapse of years has handicapped -my efforts. And yet, fanciful as it may sound to you, Godfrey, I am -not without hope, even at this late day, of finding my father, and of -vindicating his innocence. At any rate, this is the object to which my -life is devoted, and from which I shall never swerve." - -And Idris, having satisfied the curiosity of his friends on various -other points, immaterial in themselves, dropped the subject, and the -conversation flowed into other channels. - -Presently they were interrupted by the appearance of the page-boy, -with a note addressed to Godfrey, who, finding that he was wanted in a -critical case, withdrew, leaving Beatrice to entertain the guest. - -"I am afraid, Mr. Breakspear," she said, "that you will spend a rather -dull time here; our household is a quiet one, and Ormsby offers little -in the shape of entertainment. Our only show-places are the old Saxon -church on the hill-top, and Ravenhall--Lord Ormsby's seat." - -"I think I'll take a stroll towards the old Saxon church," said Idris, -who was simple in his tastes, and easily pleased. - -"I have to pass that way," Beatrice said, "and, if you care to -accompany me----" - -Idris, who found Beatrice's soft grey eyes very attractive, readily -accepted her offer; and, after a pleasant walk of half an hour, the two -reached the ancient church of the Northumbrian saint, Oswald. - -"This," said Beatrice, as they passed through an arched doorway, and -stood within the subdued light cast by the stained glass, "this is the -Ravengar Chantry." - -"A sort of oratory and burial-place of the Ravengars?" - -"Yes. These monumental brasses are the tombs of my ancestors, that is, -of those who antedated the Restoration; those who lived after that -time are interred in the private crypt at Ravenhall. For you must -know---- Ah, listen!" she said, breaking off abruptly. "Some one is -playing the organ." - -"And playing with a masterly touch, too," remarked Idris, after a brief -interval of listening. - -"Who can it be?" murmured Beatrice. "Our own organist is not capable of -such music." - -She was about to advance on tiptoe from the transept to the nave in -order to obtain a view of the organ-loft, but Idris gently checked her. - -"Stay a moment. If we show ourselves we may disconcert the musician and -put an end to his playing." - -He sat down on a stone seat in the transept. Beatrice followed his -example: and for several minutes they listened in silence, entranced by -the sweet and noble strains flowing from the organ-loft. - -Then, gradually, a peculiar change came over the spirit of the music. - -"Ah! what an eerie strain!" murmured Beatrice, a shiver passing over -her. - -Idris, too, found himself curiously affected. Becoming oblivious of -external things, yielding himself entirely to the influence of the -music, he essayed to enter into the spirit and meaning of the piece. -Those solemn rhythmic cadences that thrilled him with a melancholy awe -could be interpreted only as a Funeral March. At intervals there pealed -from the organ shivering, staccato notes, like the heart-sobs of those -who "keen" for the dead, succeeded by a mournful, stately measure, as -if the cold voice of Fate were declaring that death must be endured -as the common lot of all. The very soul of grief was voiced in those -notes, which, lofty and sad, mysterious as the moonlight, seemed to -weep as they kissed the cold stones of the chantry. - -During the dream-like spell induced by the weird character of the -requiem Idris suddenly became subject to a very strange feeling, the -like of which he had never before known. Vivid as fire on a dark night -there came upon him the startling conviction that this was not his -first visit to the Church of St. Oswald. He had been in this chantry in -time past; he had seen these monumental brasses before: that Funeral -March was a familiar air. The interior of the edifice was as the face -of an old friend who has not been seen for years. - -He was sitting in a part of the transept from which it was impossible -for him to view the opposite ends of the nave, unless he possessed the -power of being able to see around a distant corner; yet, directing -his mental eye towards the interior of the church, he could see the -chancel-window at its eastern end, and the hexagonal font by the -western porch. - -He felt that he could find his way about the building without once -stumbling, even though it were wrapped in the gloom of night. Every -part of it, from the belfry tower above to the crypt below, was -familiar ground. - -With a solemn and long drawn-out diminuendo the music ceased. - -Shivering like one roused from a sleep upon the cold ground Idris -started from his reverie, to find Beatrice regarding him with a -curious, half-frightened look. - -"A penny for your thoughts, Mr. Breakspear. I have spoken to you three -times, and you have given me no answer. Have you seen a ghost? You look -quite 'fey,' as we say in these parts." - -"I have been subjected to a very singular experience," Idris answered, -looking around with a perplexed air. "Till to-day I have never set -foot in Ormsby. Yet I know this church, know it as well as I know my -chambers in the Albany. Now, tell me, does not the chancel-window -contain three divisions?" - -Beatrice murmured an affirmative, seeing nothing wonderful in Idris' -remark, inasmuch as chancel-windows usually contain three divisions. - -"And in the central pane is painted the Madonna, treading upon the Old -Dragon, with the Holy Child in her arms?" - -Beatrice, beginning to be surprised, said that this was correct. - -"The right-hand pane represents King Oswald setting up the Cross as his -standard for battle, while the left portrays him at his palace-gate, -distributing his gold and silver plate among the poor." - -"Yes. How do you know, if you have never been here before?" Beatrice -burst forth, her amazement increasing as Idris proceeded to enumerate -other details. - -"Mr. Breakspear, you _must_ have been here before!" - -"Never! I solemnly assure you; at least, not in the body." - -He walked towards the head of an oblong marble sepulchre, surmounted by -the gilt effigy of a crusading Ravengar, lying in cross-legged repose. - -"Mark me," he said, turning to Beatrice, "I shall find on the other -side of this tomb a circular hole large enough to admit my hand." - -At the foot of the stone knight was sculptured the heraldic shield -of the Ravengars, much defaced, and crumbling with age; in the first -quartering of which was a round orifice of sufficient dimensions to -admit the insertion of Idris' hand. - -"What do you say to this?" he asked of Beatrice, who had followed him -to the tomb. - -But Beatrice, full of wonderment, could say nothing. - -"I have a distinct remembrance of placing my hand here in days gone -by," Idris continued. "Yes: I have been in this church before: I am -as certain of that as I am of my own existence. But how? There's the -puzzle. Not in the body, for my life has been passed at a distance from -Ormsby. How then? Has the knowledge been imparted to me in a dream? -Or is it a fact that during sleep the spirit of man may visit distant -places? Or was old Pythagoras right in asserting that we have all had a -previous existence? Am I a reincarnation of one who was familiar with -this place in time past? Miss Ravengar, how is one to explain this -psychological puzzle?" - -Beatrice's reply was checked by a light footfall. A young lady, attired -in a soft clinging dress of muslin, was coming slowly towards the -chantry. - -Idris looked up and met her eyes, eyes of a dark, tender violet. One -glance: and then--and then---- - -If he had been previously required to write an essay on love, that -essay would have run on the lines that love, to be sincere and lasting, -must be grounded on the esteem that a man and a woman have for each -other's good qualities; that love therefore must be the product of -time; and that, consequently, genuine love at first sight is an -impossibility. - -He thought differently now, as he gazed upon a face fairer than any he -had ever seen: so pure the spirit breathing from it that, like the face -of a Madonna upon a cathedral window, it seemed hallowed by a light -coming from beyond. - -If, in the language of the mystic, all beauty be a manifestation of the -Divinity, is it any marvel that Idris, as he stood mute and motionless, -should have felt an awe, a sense of adoration, stealing over him? - -As the young lady drew near she acknowledged Beatrice's presence with -an inclination of her head, an action to which Beatrice responded with -a frigid air, an air that seemed to trouble the other, for her eyes -drooped, and a faint colour mantled her face. With quiet dignity she -passed by, and the next moment had vanished through the porch. - -Not till then did Idris find his tongue. - -"What a divine face!" he murmured. "Who is she?" - -"Her name is Rivière--Lorelie Rivière," answered Beatrice somewhat -coldly. - -"Rivière. She is French, then?" - -Though evidently disinclined to pursue the subject, Beatrice, seeing -Idris' interest in the stranger, proceeded to enlighten him so far as -she was able. - -"Mademoiselle Rivière is a lady, apparently of independent means. She -came to Ormsby about four months ago, taking for her residence The -Cedars, a villa on the North Road. She lives a quiet and secluded life. -Her name indicates French nationality, but beyond that fact no one -knows anything of her origin and antecedents. Godfrey once attended -her professionally, and she impressed him as being a lady of birth and -refinement: but," added Beatrice, compressing her lips, "_I_ do not -like her." - -The tone in which she delivered herself of this last sentiment somewhat -vexed Idris: but whatever might be the cause of her dislike, he felt -that it did not originate from jealousy of the stranger's beauty. -Beatrice was too high-minded to be actuated by so paltry a motive. For -his own part he could not associate anything bad with the sad grave -eyes of Lorelie Rivière. Beatrice, in her judgment of the other's -character, must surely be the victim of some misapprehension. - -"But--but--was she the musician?" he asked. - -"It seems so," replied Beatrice, moving into the nave. "There is no one -in the organ-loft now. But here comes the boy who blows. He will tell -us. Roger, was it Mademoiselle Rivière who was playing just now?" - -The lad gave an affirmative nod, and exhibited with pleasure the coin -he had received as a fee. - -"Comes here often," he said. "Calls at our cottage when she wants me to -blow." - -Idris was silent, marvelling that one so young should play with a touch -so masterly: marvelling still more that her music should have wrought -upon him an impression so weird. - -He moved around the church with Beatrice, and then mounted the stairs -leading to the gallery, feigning to be interested in what he saw, in -reality seeing nothing but the beautiful face of Lorelie Rivière. - -On the seat fronting the organ was a book, left behind probably by an -oversight. Idris lifted the volume, a handsome one, bound in vellum and -gold, and was much surprised at the title. - -"_Paulus Diaconus de Gestis Langobardorum_," he read aloud. - -"What a dreadful title!" murmured Beatrice. "What does it mean?" - -"It is Paul Warnefrid's _History of the Lombards_, a book you'll -scarcely meet with once in a lifetime. Quite a thrilling work, no -doubt, to antiquaries of the Dryasdust order, but I cannot imagine a -lady taking to this style of literature. To begin with, it's all in -Latin: evidently she understands that language." - -"Perhaps the book does not belong to Mademoiselle Rivière." - -"The margin of almost every page contains notes in a lady's -handwriting--obviously the remarks of one who understands the work. She -seems to have been a diligent student," continued Idris, observing the -numerous annotations. "Ah! what is this? 'The Fatal Skull,' written -across the title-page. On other pages are the initials 'F. S.,' -presumably standing for the same words, 'Fatal Skull.' See here, 'F. -S.,' and here again, 'F. S.'" - -"_The Fatal Skull!_" said Beatrice in wonderment. "What is meant by -that?" - -At Beatrice's request Idris translated some of the passages marked with -the letters "F. S.," but he failed to grasp their significance, there -being no connection whatever between a skull and the subject-matter of -the paragraph. Then, becoming conscious that it was an unchivalrous -proceeding to pry into an absent lady's book, he was on the point of -closing it, when his eye was caught by the following words written upon -the fly-leaf:-- - - - Lorelie Rivière, - 16, Place Graslin, - Nantes. - - -"16, Place Graslin?" murmured Idris in great surprise. "Heavens! It -was before the door of 16, Place Graslin that M. Duchesne was murdered -twenty-seven years ago!" - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -THE SECRET OF THE RUNIC RING - - -The room that Godfrey Rothwell was accustomed to call his study was -a small and cosy apartment, well furnished with books; while, here -and there, were many ornaments betraying the taste of Beatrice, for -the room was jointly occupied by brother and sister. They loved to -be together, and while Godfrey studied his medical tomes, Beatrice's -fingers would be busy with sewing or embroidery. - -On this particular evening the presence of Idris caused both study -and needlework to be suspended. He had whetted the curiosity of his -entertainers by affirming that his coming to Ormsby had something to do -with the search for his father: he was, in fact, following a clue. - -His hearers pressed for enlightenment. - -"Let us sit around the fire, and I will explain my meaning." - -Drawing a comfortable arm-chair to the hearth Beatrice composed herself -for what she felt was about to be an interesting disclosure. - -"Among the papers," Idris began, "handed to me on my eighteenth -birthday by my mother's executors was a piece of vellum with runic -letters upon it. Though eleven years had passed I immediately -recognized these characters as being identical with those engraved on -the Ring of Odin. My mother had had the forethought to make a copy of -the inscription." - -Here Idris paused, reading a question in Beatrice's eyes. - -"Have you the transcript with you?" she asked. "It will be interesting -to look at, though we do not understand it." - -Idris produced from his pocketbook a scrap of vellum inscribed with -four lines of tiny runic letters. - -"And these are runes?" said Beatrice, looking at them attentively. -"They are very like the characters on the bugle that hangs within the -porch of Ravenhall." - -"Precisely," said Godfrey, "inasmuch as that is an old Norse -drinking-horn. But we are interrupting Idris' story." - -"The sight of this inscription naturally interested me," continued -Idris, "and I resolved to make an attempt at its decipherment, in the -hope that it might cast a ray of light upon the mystery of Duchesne's -murder, for I have always held to the belief that he was assassinated -for the sake of the altar-ring. With this view I procured the services -of a professor eminent for his knowledge of Norse antiquities, and -under his tuition I began the study of runology. - -"I was soon able to read all the letters of the inscription, and to -pronounce what I supposed were syllables and words: but syllables -and words would not yield any sense. And here and there came a -juxtaposition of consonants quite unpronounceable. To add to the -difficulty there were no spaces to show where one word ended and -another began. All the characters were equally close together and -seemed to form one long word. I did my best to break the inscription -up into its component parts, but failed. I could not distinguish one -familiar term. Either the language was not old Norse, or the professor -had taught me wrongly." - -"Why did you not lay the inscription before the professor," asked -Beatrice, "and get him to decipher it for you?" - -"Because I did not wish any one to know the secret till I myself had -first ascertained its value. In the belief that it might be written in -some language other than old Norse I made incursions, not very deep, I -fear, into Danish, Frisian, Icelandic, and other northern dialects, but -failed to identify the inscription with any one of these tongues. - -"At last in despair I cast aside the caution I had hitherto exercised, -and placed the writing before my tutor; but, eminent runologist as he -was, he could extract no meaning from it. - -"Anxious to begin the search for my father, I parted from the Norse -professor; but yet, amid all my wanderings through Europe, I never -quite gave up the hope of being able to decipher the inscription. - -"Now, a few weeks ago, it occurred to me that the art of secret writing -may have been practised in Norse times just as in our own. Hitherto, -following modern usage, I had always read the inscription from left to -right: why not from right to left, as ancient Hebrew is read? I tried -the course, but it made me no wiser. - -"However, the cryptographic idea grew upon me, and was not to be shaken -off. As you perceive, it is a four-line inscription; I therefore read -downwards, combining the letters in the first line with those directly -beneath in the second, third, and fourth lines, but with no success. -I read upwards: disappointment was still my lot. I tried the plan of -omitting every alternate letter. I seemed as far off as ever." - -"But you succeeded in the end," said Beatrice. - -"Yes. By playing at random with the letters, I hit upon the key to -the decipherment. Observe this character," continued Idris, pointing -to one in the first line, shaped thus:--*. "It is called _Hagl_, and -corresponds to our H. As it is slightly larger than the other letters, -I had come to regard it as the initial one in the series, and the -sequel proved that I was correct. Beginning with this _Hagl_, I omitted -the three following letters, taking the fifth which corresponds to our -i." - -"That gives us H-i," said Beatrice. - -"Just so. Passing over the next three characters we come to the -equivalent of our l." - -"H-i-l," said Beatrice. - -"Proceeding in this way I add two more letters, and the result is a -woman's name, as common in Norse days as in our own." - -"You mean Hilda?" - -"Precisely. Hilda is the first word of the inscription. Light had -dawned at last. I had discovered the key to the writing, and it is -this: every fourth letter is to be treated as if in immediate sequence. - -"I instantly marked off the characters into sets of four. By taking out -the first letter in each quartette, and placing them in consecutive -order, I found the result was an intelligible sentence. By treating -the second letter of each quartette in like manner the sentence was -continued: and so with the third and fourth letters. There could be no -doubt about it. I had mastered the secret of Odin's Ring." - -"And what _is_ the secret?" said Beatrice breathlessly. - -Idris could not avoid smiling at her eagerness. It was pleasant to have -so fair and interested a listener. - -"Impulsive Beatrice!" said Godfrey. "Idris may wish to keep the secret -to himself." - -"It will be very unfair, then, after having excited our curiosity," she -retorted. - -"You shall have the secret," said Idris; "though you will probably be -as much disappointed with it as I was. There is nothing very startling -in it. It does not relate to Odin and the gods of Valhalla, but to an -old Viking and a buried treasure. This is my rendering of the Norse -runes engraved on the broad perimeter of the ancient altar-ring." - -And here Idris drew forth a second piece of vellum, and read from it as -follows:-- - - - _"'Hilda, the Alruna, to her son, Magnus of Deira, - greeting.--Within the lofty tomb of thy sire Orm, the Golden, wilt - thou find the treasure won by his high arm. The noontide shadow - of the oft-carried throne will be to thee for a sign. And may the - fires of the Asas guard thy heritage for thee.--Farewell."_ - - -"That," continued Idris, after a pause, "is the secret of Odin's -Ring: and though, as I have said, I was disappointed at first, yet -in course of time I began to think that the knowledge I had acquired -might furnish me with a clue--a very faint one, it is true,--towards -discovering my father." - -"I fail to see how," observed Godfrey. - -"In this way. Captain Rochefort, who was instrumental in effecting my -father's escape, possessed--so I have learned--a copy of this runic -inscription. Now, let us suppose that he and my father turned their -attention to its decipherment, and, like myself, succeeded. Let us -further grant that they had reasons for believing that the old Viking's -treasure still existed in the spot where it was originally placed. -Allowing these premises, what is the conclusion?" - -"That they would endeavour to possess themselves of this treasure." - -"Just so. They would try to find the Viking's tomb. Therefore, if I, -too, could hit upon the place----" - -"I understand. You might come upon some trace of your father." - -"That is my meaning. I admit that it is a very slender thread upon -which to hang my hopes, but it is all that is left me. To find the -burial-place of Orm the Golden became my next object, a somewhat -difficult feat, seeing that he is a person who has altogether escaped -the historian's pen. However, I have succeeded." - -"What!" exclaimed Godfrey, incredulously. "You have discovered the -burial-place of this unknown Viking, who, granting the reality of his -existence, must have lived at least a thousand years ago?" And on -receiving a nod of affirmation, he asked, "How did you accomplish it? -'_Within the lofty tomb of thy sire Orm, the Golden_,'" continued he, -reading from Idris' translation of the inscription, "'_wilt thou find -the treasure, won by his high arm._' There is nothing here to indicate -the site of this 'lofty tomb.'" - -"There is just a hint. Magnus, the Viking's son, is said to be 'of -Deira.' I infer, therefore, that the father Orm was likewise of Deira; -that in Deira he lived, in Deira he died, and in Deira he was buried. -'Look for the tomb in Deira,' became my watchword." - -"Deira," said Beatrice quickly. "Is not Deira the ancient name for this -part of the country?" - -"Yes," Godfrey answered, "and it is rather a wide area for our friend -Idris to explore, seeing that the name included all the country from -the Tyne to the Humber, and from the Pennines to the sea." - -"True," assented Idris; "but we may narrow the area of our search -considerably. These old Vikings had such love for the sea that they -were usually buried within sound of the breakers. We shall not err, -therefore, if we confine our attention to the sea-board only of Deira." - -"Even then you will have a coast-line of more than one hundred miles to -explore." - -"A glance at an ordnance map will help us to fix the site." - -"In what way?" - -"Thus. I take it that Orm the Viking, being master of much wealth, as -is clear from the words on the ring, would build for himself a dwelling -or castle by the sea. Around the abode of their chief the vassals and -dependants would fix theirs, thus forming the nucleus of a town. Now -what name would such a place be likely to take?" - -"My dear Idris," said Godfrey, protestingly, "how can I tell?--or you -either?" he added. - -"Well, like most town-names of Norse origin it would probably end in -the syllable _by_." - -"I will grant you that much--no more." - -"You cannot see at what I am aiming?" - -"I am completely in the dark." - -"Receive a ray of light, then. Don't you think that if this Orm built a -town, that town would bear his name?" - -"Surely you are not alluding to Ormsby?" - -"But I am. This town must have received its name from some one called -Orm, and it is my belief that this Orm was none other than the Viking -who figures on the runic ring. In the neighbourhood of this town, then, -we must look for the 'lofty tomb' of my Norse warrior. Now, four miles -to the north of us, there is, so local guide-books say, a lonely valley -called Ravensdale, containing----" - -"Containing," Beatrice broke in, excitedly, "containing a rounded, -artificial hillock, over fifty feet high, and known by the name of -Ormfell." - -"Ah! I see you know it," smiled Idris. "Yes, Ormfell, or Orm's Hill, is -the spot where I shall find the bones of the ancient Viking." - -"And do you really intend," asked Beatrice, "to bore your way to the -heart of that hillock in order to see what it contains?" - -"Such is the purpose that has brought me to Ormsby, my object being to -discover whether this tumulus exhibits traces of having been recently -opened. It may be that in the sepulchral chamber within the hillock I -shall light upon something that will afford a clue towards discovering -my father. It may be a handkerchief merely, a discarded lantern, a -tool, a match-box, a button, or some other article trifling in itself, -but which a skilled detective will know how to employ in tracing the -man he wants. I may come even upon a pocketbook or a letter unwittingly -dropped--who can tell? Ormfell is my last hope. Fanciful as it may -appear to you, Godfrey, something seems to whisper to me that the -interior of that tumulus will furnish me with the means of lifting the -veil that has so long shrouded my father's fate." - -There was in Idris' manner a confidence which his hearers did not like -to quell by the expression of cold doubt, though they considered his -expectation fanciful in the extreme. - -"Do you intend to obtain the earl's sanction to make your excavations?" -asked Beatrice. "Ormfell stands on the Ravengar lands, you know." - -"Humph! if I should ask for permission I may meet with a refusal. In -such circumstances, therefore, I feel myself justified in committing a -bold trespass." - -"Well, if you should be caught, Mr. Breakspear," said Beatrice with a -blush, "I will intercede for you with Lord Ormsby, for I believe I am -rather a favourite of his." - -Idris tendered her his thanks. He had almost forgotten that the pretty -maiden sitting beside him might one day be the inheritrix of Ravenhall, -and owner of those very lands the proprietary rights of which he was -preparing to set at naught. - -"But," continued Beatrice, "if you are not going to apply for the -earl's permission, how do you intend to escape observation?" - -"By conducting my operations in the dead of night." - -"Break into a Viking's tomb in the dead of night! What a weird idea!" - -"I shall not be the first who has so acted, Miss Ravengar." - -"You will not object to my help, I presume?" Godfrey remarked. - -"On the contrary, I shall be glad of it." - -"I am half-disposed to join in this romantic business myself," said -Beatrice with a smile. "How interesting if you should discover the -treasure!" - -"We are not very likely to discover treasure that was secreted a -thousand years ago," commented Godfrey. - -"And yet," said Idris, "many sepulchral barrows, opened in our day, are -found to contain treasure--coins, drinking-horns, armour, and the like." - -"True: but in this case you forget that the words on the runic ring -were an express invitation to Orm's son--what was his name, Magnus?--to -possess himself of the treasure. He would not leave much for posterity -to glean." - -"Yes, if he received his mother's ring; but how if it miscarried? Hilda -evidently lived far away from her son Magnus, else why should she have -engraved her communication on metal, when she could more easily have -delivered it _vivâ voce_ and face to face? The messenger entrusted with -the ring may have gone astray. Travelling was a difficult matter in -Norse times, and many perils beset the wayfarer, especially a wayfarer -who carried anything worth stealing. Or consider this point, that -though Magnus was capable of understanding the runic riddle--otherwise -his mother would not have adopted such a mode of communication--yet -it does not follow that his son or successor was equally skilled. -Supposing, then, that Magnus was dead when the messenger arrived with -the ring, there may have been no one in Deira capable of interpreting -the message. The ring might thus retain its secret, and the hillock its -treasure, down to our own time." - -"Possible, but not probable," smiled Godfrey. - -Beatrice's eyes rested upon the vellum containing Idris' translation of -the runic inscription. - -"'_The fires of the Asas guard thy heritage for thee!_'" she read. -"What does that mean?" - -"The Asas were the old Norse gods, who were supposed to dart forth -flames upon any one venturing to disturb the sleep of the dead." - -"Then beware, Mr. Breakspear," she said playfully, "for you are going -the very way to evoke their wrath. '_The noontide shadow of the -oft-carried throne will be to thee for a sign._' How do you interpret -that?" - -"I wish I could answer you, Miss Ravengar. That sentence is an enigma -I've never been able to solve. It is my intention to pay a visit to -Ormfell at noon to-morrow, when an inspection of the hillock may -perhaps throw some light on the matter." - -Soon afterwards Beatrice retired for the night, but it was a long time -before sleep came to her. She lay awake, thinking of Idris, and of the -passionate look that came into his eyes at the sight of the beautiful -Lorelie Rivière. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -"THE SHADOW OF THE OFT-CARRIED THRONE" - - -Four miles to the north of Ormsby lies the valley of Ravensdale, -extending due east and west, with sides steep and wall-like. - -The eastern end opens out upon the sea-beach, and here the width of -the valley is greatest, the distance across being about half a mile. -Farther inland the breadth contracts, and the sides approach each other -till they meet in a narrow leafy gorge, whence issues the slender, -silvery Ravensbec. - -The valley contains no human habitation. The only sounds that disturb -the stillness are the melancholy murmur of the sea, and the occasional -tinkling of sheep-bells. - -In the middle of the dale, and distant a few hundred yards from the -beach, rises the eminence that for centuries has borne the name of -Ormfell, an eminence circular at the base, about fifty feet in height, -and covered with green turf. - -Upon this hillock Idris was now gazing with deep interest. - -It was a beautiful summer morning, and with Beatrice for his companion -he had come to take a view of the tumulus, preliminary to the task of -breaking into it at night. - -"We want no geologist," he remarked, "to tell us that this is an -artificial elevation. Nature never carved out this pyramid; it has been -raised by the hand of man. This is the 'lofty tomb' spoken of on the -runic ring. Within the heart of this tumulus we shall find all that -remains of old Orm the Viking." - -Beatrice shared fully in his enthusiasm. She had seen the mound many a -time, but now the words on the runic ring had invested the spot with a -new and mysterious charm. - -"Orm's warriors were men with a taste for the picturesque," she said. -"They could not have chosen a prettier place for the grave of their -hero." - -"Ay, close to the sea, that he doubtless loved well, as became a Norse -Viking. And here for ages he has remained in solitary glory, with the -surge forever murmuring his requiem." - -"This is certainly a tremendous mass of earth to pile over one poor -mortal," said Beatrice, contemplating the mound. - -"Every vassal was supposed to contribute one helmetful of soil to the -grave of his chieftain." - -"Judged by that test Orm must have had a pretty numerous following," -said Beatrice. - -"Or else each follower contributed more than the orthodox helmetful. -O, they could toil as well as fight, these old Norsemen. They were not -afraid of work." - -"May the old Norse blood in us never die out, then!" - -"Amen to that! But I see an upright stone crowning the apex of our -fell. Let us examine it. There may be runes upon it." - -Idris extended his hand to Beatrice and assisted her up the side of -the mound. Arrived at the summit he closely inspected the stone, which -was a six-sided pillar, about four feet in height, black in colour, -relieved here and there by curious red convolutions. - -"So far as I can see," he said, "this pillar does not betray any mark -of a tool. Its hexagonal shape, then, is due to nature. The stone is -basalt, which often assumes a six-sided form. These red spirals are -apparently sandstone. It is evident that the mass of basalt, of which -this pillar is a fragment, was forced upwards in an igneous liquid -state through a bed of sandstone, taking up some of the latter in its -passage. Hence these red convoluted bands." - -"I have heard that there is only one place in Europe where basalt -of this character is to be found," said Beatrice, "and that is in a -certain valley of the Crimea." - -"It may be so. The old Norse people are said by some historians to -have been of Scythian origin, and to have migrated from the region of -the Crimea. Perhaps they carried this piece of basalt with them. It -may have been a _baitulion_, or holy stone; in fact," continued Idris, -as he removed some moss from the foot of the pillar, "there can be -no doubt about it. Look on this side, and you will see why a sacred -character was attributed to it. Tell me, Miss Ravengar, what does this -red streak resemble?" - -"A curved sword!" cried Beatrice, in wonderment. "Why have I never -noticed it before? A curved sword, with blade, hilt, and cross-guard, -as perfect as if drawn by human hand." - -"Just so. And history says that the ancient Scythians worshipped a -scimitar--an appropriate deity for a barbaric and warlike race. This -hexagon, stamped with the image of their god, would be holy in their -eyes. It would be their altar-stone, and a necessary companion in all -their migrations." - -Beatrice, not doubting the truth of Idris' theory, gazed with a feeling -almost akin to awe upon the mysterious stone, which the superstition -of a far-off age had elevated to the rank of deity. Eternity seemed -to be its attribute. In its presence she and Idris were but as the -quickly-evaporating dew; long after their bodies should have crumbled -to dust this altar would remain. A silent contemporary of the rise -and fall of past empires, it would survive the rise and fall of many -to come. If ever stone was eloquent on the evanescence of all things -human, surely this stone was! - -Such were Beatrice's thoughts, while Idris, more prosaic, was on his -knees, removing the earth from the foot of the pillar, and scraping the -surface of the stone with his penknife in the hope of finding runic -letters engraved upon it: but in this he met with disappointment; each -face of the hexagon was free from inscription. - -"I was hoping," he said, rising to his feet, "to come upon some -epitaph, such as, '_I, Magnus, raise this stone to the memory of my -sire, Orm_', which would give me proof that I am on the right track, -since, after all, my opinion that this is the tomb of the Golden Viking -is purely conjectural." - -They descended to level ground again, and Idris proceeded to walk -slowly around the base of the hillock, endeavouring to take no more -than a foot at each step. - -"The circumference is, roughly speaking, about one hundred and fifty -feet," he remarked, when he had completed the circuit. "The diameter, -therefore, will be about fifty, and the centre about twenty-five feet -off." - -"If you have that distance, or nearly that distance, of solid earth to -bore through, you have a hard task," said Beatrice. - -"My work will be of a much lighter nature, I trust. If this tumulus -has been constructed like the generality of its kind, there should be -a stone chamber in the centre with a stone passage leading to it from -the side of the mound. Earth was piled over the mouth of the passage, -but marks, usually taking the shape of two upright stones, were left to -indicate the entrance." - -"What point of the compass did the Norsemen favour when constructing -the entrance-passage of their tumuli?" - -"The point of ingress usually faced the east." - -"This is the easternmost point, nearest the sea," said Beatrice, moving -onward a few steps; and full of their enterprise, she cried, "Let us -try to find the guide-stones." - -They carefully surveyed the eastern curve of the base, Beatrice probing -with the point of her sunshade, and Idris with the ferule of his -walking-stick, among the long grass and bracken that grew in profusion -at the foot of the hillock. Their search, however, was without result. - -"I am at fault, it seems," said Idris, "or, it may be, the rain of -centuries has washed down so much earth from the side of the mound that -the guide-stones at its foot have become buried. We can do nothing -without proper tools." - -"Let us explore all round," suggested Beatrice, the spirit of adventure -growing upon her. - -They examined the entire circuit of the base, and, when that -investigation was over, were no wiser than when they had begun. - -Beatrice seated herself on a grassy bank facing the tumulus, and Idris -took his place beside her. - -"This will never do," he muttered, ruefully contemplating the hillock. -"I _must_ discover the mouth of the passage. If I begin to bore at any -other point I might indeed reach the wall of the central chamber, but I -should be on the outside, and it would be difficult, if not impossible, -to make a way through the masonry. Besides, as I cannot admit the -coöperation of any one but Godfrey, tunnelling through twenty feet of -earth is a task that will take several nights, not to speak of the -impossibility of concealing our work in the daytime." - -"Or the risk of your tunnel falling upon you, in which case," added -Beatrice, demurely, "you would have _much ground_ for complaint." - -"Wicked Miss Ravengar! Would you jest at my misfortunes? I will defeat -your hopes by finding the legitimate entrance." - -"And how do you propose to find it?" - -"Well, I conceive that the entrance is shaped like an ordinary doorway, -that is to say, it consists of two upright stones a little distance -apart, with a third resting horizontally upon them. I shall have to -move round the base of the hillock with an iron implement, striking -into the soil till I meet with stone. A little judicious probing will -soon tell me whether it be a boulder, or one of the entrance-columns. -If a boulder merely, I shall have to pass on, repeating my experiment." - -"But if these entrance-columns stand well within the hillock you may go -all round without lighting upon them." - -"In that case I shall have to begin again, and strike deeper." - -"Even then you may fail. You are arguing on the supposition that the -mouth of the passage must be on a level with the base of the hillock, -whereas it may be higher, six, nine, or twelve feet above level ground. -And," pursued Beatrice, "if you conduct your operations in the manner -you describe, it will be difficult to keep your work secret. The -disturbed state of the soil, and the uprooting of the herbage, will -tell a tale to the earl's bailiffs." - -"Humph! these are difficulties which call for a cheroot," replied -Idris. "You have no objection, Miss Ravengar? Thank you," he continued, -lighting it. "Now to put on my thinking-cap." - -Reclining upon the grass he puffed thoughtfully at his cheroot, -and gazed at the green mound that seemed to be quietly mocking his -endeavours. - -"Ormfell appears determined to keep its secret," said Beatrice. "We -want Belzoni here." - -"Belzoni? 'I thank thee, Jew,'--or shall I say Jewess?--'for teaching -me that word.' Shall an Italian find his way to the heart of the great -stone pyramid, while I, an Englishman, am to be defeated by a paltry -cone of earth, fifty feet only in diameter? Never!" he exclaimed, -theatrically. "How," he continued, knitting his brows in perplexity, -"how were the Norsemen themselves enabled to remember where the point -of ingress lay? They must surely have left some mark to indicate it." - -For the twentieth time that morning Idris murmured the inscription on -the runic ring. - -"'_Within the lofty tomb of thy sire, Orm the Golden, wilt thou -find the treasure won by his high arm. The noontide shadow of the -oft-carried throne will be to thee for a sign._' How long am I to be -baffled by this dark oracle? What is meant by the 'oft-carried throne'?" - -The light of understanding suddenly leaped into Beatrice's eyes, and -she pointed excitedly to the piece of basalt crowning the summit. - -"Mr. Breakspear, are not the words 'oft-carried' very applicable to -that stone, if it has really been brought over sea and land from the -Crimea? Is not that the 'throne' alluded to?" - -The cheroot dropped from Idris' lips, and he sprang to his feet with a -cry of exultation. - -"By heaven! Miss Ravengar, you are right. 'Oft-carried throne?' Yes, -that must be it! As the holy _baitulion_ of a tribe, marked with the -image of their deity, it would doubtless be the stone on which the new -chief would stand when invested with kingly rule. That piece of basalt -was a kind of _Lia Fail_, like the coronation-stone at Westminster." - -"Ormfell is becoming more interesting than ever," said Beatrice, her -eyes sparkling with pleasure at having solved a problem that had -perplexed Idris so long. "We have discovered the oft-carried throne, -and the oft-carried throne is to be to us for a sign. A sign of what?" - -"Indicative of the entrance, I presume, otherwise there would be no -reason for engraving the fact on the ring." - -"Do the words mean that the stone stands over the entrance itself? If -we remove it, shall we discover the mouth of a shaft?" - -"Scarcely, I think: for, if so, the stone would be a sign at all hours -of the twenty-four, whereas the language of the ring restricts its -significance to the noontide hour only." - -"It wants an hour yet to noon," said Beatrice, referring to her watch. - -"Good! We will wait till then. I have formed my opinion. Mark my words, -Miss Ravengar, we shall find that the entrance is on the northern side. -The noontide hour will show whether I am right." - -And Idris, resuming his fallen cheroot, relighted it, and reclining -once more upon the grassy bank, waited for the time to pass, while -Beatrice sat beside him in a state of pleasing suspense. - -"Now if my grandfather were here," she remarked, "he might be able to -tell us whether or not Ormfell contains the treasure, without taking -the trouble to break into the tumulus." - -"Then your grandfather must have been a remarkably clever fellow." - -"He was. By simply walking barefoot over the ground he was able to tell -whether metals lay below, and not only that, but the depth even at -which they lay. He has been known to point out and trace accurately -the course of water, veins of metal, coal-measures, and the like." - -"I have heard of similar feats performed by miners of the Hartz -Mountains," said Idris, "but have always regarded such stories as -apocryphal. Had your grandfather any theory to account for his -marvellous power?" - -"His idea was that the proximity of metals imparted a peculiar -sensation to the soles of his feet, the intensity of the impression -being a measure of their nearness to the surface. His belief was that -metals cast off subtle exhalations capable of being detected by a -highly magnetic organism, which his undoubtedly was." - -"There may be something in that theory. There are persons who cannot -enter the Mint without fainting." - -"He always maintained," Beatrice went on, "that this valley of -Ravensdale was the centre of a rich coalfield." - -"Your grandfather's power of divining for metals has not descended to -you and Godfrey, I presume?" - -"I sometimes think it has--in a slight degree. We still keep his -walking-stick cut from the witch-hazel. This stick would turn visibly -in his hands at the proximity of metals; it has sometimes turned in -Godfrey's hands, and more than once in mine." - -"Strange! Well, if this stick is capable of being affected by metals -let Godfrey by all means bring it with him to-night," said Idris, more -in jest than in earnest. "The treasures of the Viking, supposing them -to be still within the hillock, may lie concealed under the floor of -the chamber, and we shall be at a loss to know at what point to dig for -them." - -The minutes moved tardily on, and as the meridian hour approached, -Beatrice said:-- - -"Have you noticed how the shadow cast by the stone creeps slowly along -over the face of the ground? This hillock could easily be turned into a -giant sun-dial." - -"You echo my thoughts, Miss Ravengar. And it seems to me that this -shadow will furnish us with the clue we want." - -"You mean that the shadow of the stone will fall on the very spot where -the entrance is?" - -"Not quite: for in that case the shadow would be an uncertain guide, -varying with the sun's altitude at the different seasons: and, besides, -you will notice that the shadow is many yards from the foot of the -tumulus. It is not probable that the secret entrance lies so far off. -No: my idea is this. Connect the oft-carried throne and its shadow with -an ideal line, and near the point where this line cuts the base of the -hillock will be found the mouth of the passage. It is the noontide hour -now," continued Idris, rising. "We will put a little pile of stones -to mark the spot where the apex of the shadow falls--so," he added, -suiting the action to the word. "Now all we have to do is to walk from -this point to the foot of the hillock, keeping in a bee-line with that -piece of basalt on the summit, and, unless I err, we shall hit upon the -entrance." - -Speaking thus, Idris began his experiment. When he had come to the foot -of the hillock, Beatrice observed with surprise that the thick, heavy -walking-stick carried by him was in reality the receptacle for a long -and stout sword. This weapon he pushed into the side of the hillock at -the spot touched by the imaginary line. - -After a series of probings, begun on a level with the ground and -continued in an upward direction, Idris paused with a gleam of -excitement on his face. Changing the direction, he resumed his probing, -moving horizontally to the right and stopping again. Then he continued -the movement, this time coming downward, so that the course of his -sword had described three sides of a rectangle. - -"Miss Ravengar," he cried, in a voice of emotion, "I have found the -entrance! As I live, I have found it! Here, hidden within the soil, -are two stone blocks a little distance apart, with a third resting -crosswise upon them, the three forming a kind of doorway. We have only -to remove the earth overlying them, and we shall find a hollow passage -beyond." - -Beatrice's cheek coloured with pleasure as Idris continued:-- - -"Miss Ravengar, you have proved yourself a valuable auxiliary. But for -your explanation I might still be puzzling my mind as to the meaning of -'the oft-carried throne.' I offer you a somewhat problematic reward. -Whatever spoil is found within shall be divided equally between us." - -"_Merci!_ But are you not promising too much? Is not treasure-trove the -property of the Crown?" - -"Provided that the Crown hears of the discovery." - -"Fie, Mr. Breakspear! you would corrupt my honesty." - -"I can depart now with a hopeful heart for to-night's work. I shall -have but little difficulty in penetrating to the interior of the -hillock. We have no need to mark the entrance. Nature has already done -it for us." - -He pointed to a cluster of white flowers growing upon the side of the -hillock. Beatrice had no sooner set eyes upon them than an expression -of surprise stole over her face. - -"Do you know the name of this flower?" she said. "It is the vernal -mandrake." - -"What? The mandragora of the ancients?--the plant that played so potent -a factor in classic witchcraft?" - -"The same." - -Idris gazed with considerable interest upon the pale mysterious plant -around which so many weird superstitions have gathered. - -"And a curious circumstance it is," continued Beatrice, who was -somewhat of a botanist, "that it should be growing here." - -"Why so?" - -"Because it is a plant requiring cultivation. It does not grow wild, at -least not in this country." - -"Then your inference is that it has been planted here by human agency?" - -"Sown is perhaps a better word than planted. It certainly did not -spring up spontaneously from the soil." - -"Hum! This raises a curious question. For what purpose was it sown? Is -some one carrying on botanic experiments here? Or shall we say that my -projected visit to the interior of the tumulus has been forestalled, -and my unknown forerunner, desirous of renewing his visit at an early -date, has left these tokens here to mark the point of entrance, -probably having had the same difficulty as ourselves in discovering it? -What simpler plan could he adopt than just to sprinkle here a few seeds -of the white-flowering mandrake?" - -Beatrice had nothing to say either for or against this last theory, -and, after puzzling themselves in vain to account for the presence of -the mandrake, they set off for Ormsby. - -On their way they passed a small workshop belonging to the -cemetery-mason. The man himself was standing at the door, and Beatrice -stopped to exchange a few civilities with him. - -"Well, Robin, how is the world using you?" she asked pleasantly. - -"Rather badly of late. The people of Ormsby seem to live longer than -they used to do." - -"I am afraid my brother is partly responsible for that," said Beatrice -demurely. "It is his business to oppose yours, you see." - -"No one seems to want a tombstone nowadays," continued the man -gloomily. "However, I had a little work put in my way yesterday by -Mademoiselle Rivière." - -"Mademoiselle Rivière!" echoed Beatrice in surprise. "What order has -_she_ given you?" - -"You have perhaps heard that more than twenty years ago an unknown -vessel was wrecked in Ormsby Race. Four bodies only were washed -ashore, and these were buried in a corner of St. Oswald's churchyard. -Mademoiselle Rivière has obtained permission of the Rector to place a -marble cross over their grave." - -"Did she say why she takes such an interest in these drowned men?" -asked Beatrice. - -"Well, as to that I was a little bit curious myself, and so I could not -help putting a question or two. Mademoiselle said she had good reason -for believing that the lost vessel was French: and being French herself -she felt a desire to honour their grave. If you will step inside, I -will show you what she has chosen." - -Idris, who felt a strange interest in Mademoiselle Rivière, required no -second bidding, and with Beatrice entered the workshop, where the mason -exhibited with manifest pride a cross of Sicilian marble, standing on a -base of the same material. This pedestal was wrought in the shape of a -rock, and decorated with seaweed and an anchor. - -"What is the epitaph to be?" asked Idris, after some words -complimentary to the mason's skill. - -The man produced a paper upon which was written, in the same delicate, -flowing penmanship that had adorned the margin of the Lombard -historian, the following words:-- - - - "SACRED - - TO THE MEMORY - - OF - - THE DROWNED. - - OCTOBER 13TH, 1876. - - '_He that is without sin, let him first - cast the stone._'" - - -Idris laid down the paper, and, after a few more words with the mason, -the two went on their way again. - -"Mademoiselle Rivière must know something more about those shipwrecked -men than that they were Frenchmen merely," observed Idris. "If the -verse cited is to have any application at all, it must mean that the -drowned men were guilty of--I know not what, but something upon which -the world would not look leniently. Hence, perhaps, the absence of -their names from the epitaph." - -"You think she knows their names?" - -"Without doubt. Why should a lady erect a costly memorial over the -grave of men of whom she knows nothing? If I may venture a conjecture I -should say that she must be related to one of them. 'He that is without -sin, let him first cast the stone.' I have often thought that that -verse might very well form a part of my father's epitaph." - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -"THE FIRES OF THE ASAS!" - - -Midnight was chiming from a distant church-tower as Idris and Godfrey -stood on the edge of the upland that overlooked the valley of -Ravensdale. - -They had left Wave Crest at eleven o'clock, and following a circuitous -route, and favoured by the late hour, had succeeded in reaching their -destination without attracting notice. - -Beatrice had begged hard to accompany them, but this Godfrey would -not permit. So she watched them from the garden-gate till they were -out of sight, and then returned indoors to alarm herself by reading -the adventures of Belzoni in the Great Pyramid, finding some sort of -affinity between the expedition of Idris and that of the enterprizing -Paduan. - -The night was lovely and cloudless, with a full moon shining from a sky -of darkest blue. - -Shimmering white in the hallowed radiance arose the lofty tomb of the -long-buried Viking, and as the two friends made their way towards it -the character of the undertaking began to oppress the mind of Godfrey -with various strange fancies. What the interior of the hillock would -reveal he could not tell; but he had forebodings of something grim -and ghostly. Though it was of his own free will that he came, yet -now, brought close to the intended task, he shrank from it, and found -himself yielding to a spirit of fear. - -He could not but admire the unconcern of his companion, who strode -gallantly forward, humming the chorus of a hunting-song. - -"Confound yon bright moon!" muttered Idris. "If any of the coast-guard -should stroll this way, we are certain to be seen." - -Arrived at the northernmost point of the tumulus, he flung down the -sack that he had carried containing the implements necessary for -excavation, and turning his eyes upon the side of the hillock began to -look about for the white-flowering mandrake that betokened the point of -ingress. - -He glanced quickly from right to left, but, to his surprise, the plant -was nowhere to be seen. - -"Here's a mystery! What has become of the mandrake?--No matter: there's -the pile of pebbles I set up on the spot where the shadow of the stone -fell. I have but to repeat my former experiment." - -Making his way to the little heap Idris faced about, and then began to -walk towards the hillock, keeping in a direct line with the stone upon -its apex. - -On reaching the base of the tumulus he paused and remained stationary, -with his back to Godfrey, and his gaze riveted on the side of the -mound. There was something so peculiar in the rigidity of his attitude, -and in his long-continued silence, that Godfrey's heart quickened with -an unknown fear, a fear that deepened, when Idris, with a scared face -turned slowly round, and, as if the power of speech had left him, -beckoned with his finger for the surgeon to come forward. - -"Look there!" he said in a hoarse voice, clutching Godfrey with one -hand, and pointing with the other. "Tell me whether I see aright. -What's that?" - -And there, protruding from the side of the hillock in the place where -the mandrake had grown, was--a human hand! - -A human hand, rising from the earth, motionless and rigid, the crooked -fingers seeming to tell of the agony of a death by suffocation. - -Some one, since the morning, had been trying to force a way through -the soil at the entrance of the passage, and had lost his life in the -attempt. - -Such was Idris' first thought. A closer inspection, however, showed -that the event had not happened that day. The nails had fallen from the -fingers, and there was, besides, a decayed, vegetable look about the -hand, differing altogether from the aspect presented by the skin of the -newly-dead. How Idris came to overlook it during his morning visit was -a mystery, since the hand must have been in its present position for -several days, if not for several weeks. Its sudden exposure was perhaps -due to the afternoon storm, which had washed away a portion of the soil. - -To endeavour to ascertain the identity of the victim by pulling at -the withered hand, and thus bringing the decayed form to view, was an -act that not only Idris shrank from, but even Godfrey, the surgeon, -familiar with the _disjecta membra_ of the dissecting room. - -Then Idris, bending forward to examine the hand more closely, gave vent -to a peal of laughter. - -"Brave heroes we are to be frightened by a plant! It is nothing but the -root of the mandrake." - -Godfrey drew a breath of relief, as he assured himself by a nearer view -that what he had taken for a human hand was indeed the withered root of -the mandrake, so apt to assume strange and unaccountable shapes. - -Yet, to save his life, he durst not put forth his hand to touch it. - -If such were the terrors guarding the exterior of the tomb, what might -he not expect to find in the interior? - -"Now, Godfrey, our silly fright being over, to work! I will dig while -you watch. Take a seat on this boulder here, and if you should see -anybody coming, give the word and I will suspend operations for a -while. There cannot be more than five or six feet of earth to knock -away, and then the passage will be open to our view. The work ought not -to take long." - -Godfrey did as desired, and Idris flung off ulster, coat, and vest. -Rolling his shirt-sleeves above the elbow, he drew the tools from the -sack and selected a spade. - -"Now to disturb the repose of old Orm the Golden!" he cried, excitement -sparkling from his eyes. "Now to evoke the fires of the Asas!" - -The sickly, withered mandrake-root, with its resemblance to a human -hand, fronted him, and as if in contempt of his former fears, he -drove the edge of the spade clean through the stalk. The separated -parts seemed to quiver and writhe in a manner extremely suggestive of -animal-life. - -A thrill of terror shot through his frame, and, spade in hand, he -paused, staring at the root; for, simultaneously with its dissection, -there came a sound, bearing resemblance to a plaintive human cry. - -It was not the creation of his fancy, since Godfrey too had heard it. - -"In the name of all that's holy what was that?" he asked, starting up -from the stone upon which he had been sitting. - -"That is what I should like to know," said Idris, trying to look -unconcerned. "It came--or seemed to come--from this plant here. The -poet speaks of:-- - - - 'Shrieks like mandrakes torn from the ground!' - - -but I never thought to hear them in my own person." - -He toyed idly with the spade, desirous, yet almost afraid, of making a -second stroke. - -In all his life Godfrey had never been so much alarmed as he was at -that moment. - -"Idris, let us leave this business--at least, for to-night." - -His words acted as a stimulus to the other's courage. - -"Leave it? Never! till I have forced my way to the heart of this -hillock, and wrested the secret from it. On the very point of discovery -must we turn back, frightened by a sound, the cry, probably, of some -night-bird? We are not the first to break into a Norse barrow at -midnight. Shall we be outdone in enterprise by others? No: though the -dead Viking rise up, sword in hand, to repel me, yet will I go on." - -And with this Idris lifted the spade, and attacked the side of the -hillock, savagely cutting the mandrake root to fragments, half -expecting to hear the weird cry again. But the sound, whatever its -origin, was not repeated. - -Finding the earth to be hard conglomerate, and not easily susceptible -to impressions from the spade, Idris laid that tool aside, and, fitting -the wooden shaft of a pickaxe into its iron head, proceeded to reduce -the conglomerate to a crumble, which he then tossed aside with the -spade, labouring alternately with the two implements. - -No word escaped him: he was too much interested in the work to waste -his breath in words. His efforts soon unearthed two large unhewn blocks -of stone standing a little distance apart. - -Fired to fresh energy by this sight, a proof that he was working in the -right direction, he continued his excavations between the two blocks. -After the lapse of a few minutes he paused, and thrust his arm up to -the shoulder through an aperture appearing in the conglomerate. - -"_Io triumphe!_" he exclaimed. "Empty space behind this. A little more -labour, and we shall be able to crawl into the passage beyond." - -Declining Godfrey's repeated offers of assistance, Idris resumed his -work enthusiastically, dealing stroke after stroke upon the wall of -earth that barred his way. Down came the black soil with a rush, as if -glad to meet free air after an imprisonment of centuries. Wider and -wider grew the aperture, revealing an open space beyond: and, at last, -flinging down his tools, Idris declared that the way was now open to -the interior. - -"Where's the lantern, Godfrey?" - -The surgeon was already fumbling about in the sack. With an exclamation -of dismay he rose to his feet and gave it a shake, but nothing came -forth. - -"By heaven! Godfrey, don't say that we have left the lantern behind!" - -"That is just what we have done." - -"At least, the match-box is there." - -"No: that, too, is a minus article." - -Idris breathed a malediction. As he himself had attended to the putting -up of their paraphernalia, the omission was his own, and no blame -attached to Godfrey. - -The neglect seemed irremediable. It was out of the question to return -to Ormsby for the lantern, and yet, without a light, it would be -hazardous to grope their way through darkness to the interior of the -hillock. To be so near the point of discovery, and yet so far off, was -maddening. - -"I shall not return without some attempt at exploration," cried Idris. -"We'll have to grope about in the dark and try what we can discover in -that way." - -Godfrey was almost ready to drop at this weird suggestion. - -"Stay a moment!" continued Idris, stooping over his vest, and feeling -in the pockets, "surely I have some matches here. Yes," he added, with -a cry of delight, drawing forth a metallic box. "Here they are! How -many? Three, as I live! Three only! Humph! we shall have to economize -our slender resources. We must feel our way along the passage. I'll -walk a few steps ahead of you, so that if any hurt should befall me, -take warning yourself, and help me if you can. We'll not strike these -vestas till we are fairly within the central chamber. We may learn -something from their glimmer." - -Idris, having resumed his coat and vest, was on the point of leading -the way, when he suddenly became impressed with the idea that there -might be some hidden danger within the hillock, and for Beatrice's sake -it was not right that Godfrey should be drawn into it. - -But the surgeon, though indeed reluctant to go forward, was -nevertheless unwilling to be considered a coward, and demurred to the -suggestion that he should remain at the entrance till Idris had first -paid a visit to the interior. - -"Seriously speaking," said Idris, "I do not see what danger there can -be, but still there _is_ the possibility of it, and I ought to meet it -alone. Beatrice would never forgive me if harm should befall you. Stay -here till I have made a brief exploration." - -While speaking he caught sight of the walking-stick with which -Godfrey's grandfather had been accustomed to perform his feats of -divination. It was curiously shaped, carved so as to represent a -serpent twining round a wand, the head of the reptile being set with -two green, glittering stones in imitation of eyes. - -"Pass me your ancestral _caduceus_," he said. "It will serve to guide -my steps. I wish these eyes were lamps!" - -Then, waving the surgeon back, he stepped within the dark hole, which -seemed, in Godfrey's imagination, to gape like the mouth of a great -dragon about to swallow its victim. - -Idris' sensations on entering the passage were far from agreeable. -Though the moonlight without was brilliantly white, not a ray of it -found entrance to the passage; the air within was black and terrible, -and as solid-looking as if formed of ebony. - -His progress was slow and tedious, from the necessity imposed upon -him of halting at each step to feel his way. Before lifting his foot -he carefully explored the ground in front of him with the stick, and -he touched in turn the sides of the passage as well as the roof. The -corridor, judged by this test, was about seven feet in height and four -in width. Roof, walls, and flooring were composed apparently of solid -masonry. - -After taking about twenty paces Idris, extending the rod on each side -of him, found that it touched nothing. The passage had opened out into -something wider. - -He judged that he had entered the mortuary chamber, and was now -standing in the presence of the dead. - -What awesome sight did the black darkness hide? - -For all he knew to the contrary, not one, but many Vikings might be -entombed here, disposed at different points of the chamber, their -bodies preserved from decay by embalming. Like the lost and frozen dead -men, seen sometimes by navigators in northern seas, they might be in -sitting posture, staring with fixed and glassy eyes as if daring him to -advance. - -The temptation to obtain a glimpse of the place by striking one of the -matches was very great, but he refrained from the action, resolving -that Godfrey should share the sight. - -Before calling upon him to follow, a sudden desire came upon Idris to -grope his way once around the interior. - -Exploring the darkness with his stick he soon hit upon the chamber-wall -at the point where it shot off at right angles to the side of the -passage. Passing his hand over its surface, an action accompanied on -his part by a feeling of disgust, the masonry being wet and slimy, he -discovered what seemed to be a rusty rod extending in a horizontal line -along the wall at the height of about six feet from the ground. Puzzled -at first to account for its use he came to the conclusion that it had -once served to uphold the tapestry with which the interiors of these -old Norse tombs were sometimes decorated. The tapestry itself was gone, -crumbled to dust, perhaps, with the lapse of time, but the metallic rod -remaining would serve to conduct him round the chamber. - -He shot a glance through the passage just traversed by him: the -darkness swallowed up its perspective, rendering it impossible for the -eye to form any judgment as to its length. The entrance seemed close -by, a square patch of white light, in which was framed a dark stooping -figure, that of Godfrey, vainly endeavouring to keep an eye on his -venturesome friend. - -Idris turned from the passage, and holding the rod with his left hand, -and grasping the stick in his right, he advanced slowly and cautiously -along the side of the chamber-wall, over ground that had, perhaps, been -untrodden for ten centuries. - -After taking six paces he was brought to a halt by the wall inclining -again at right angles. He had evidently reached one corner of the stone -chamber. - -Turning his face in this new direction, and still submitting to the -guidance of the supposed tapestry-rod, he continued his progress, -exploring the way before him with the stick. - -He paused again as his left hand came in contact with a small -triangular shred of cloth hanging to the rod. It was apparently a -fragment of tapestry. There might be other and larger portions farther -on, which, in view of their antiquity, would be of considerable -value. Pleased with the idea that he would not come away from the tomb -altogether empty-handed he was about to move forward again, when his -attention was suddenly diverted to the stick he was carrying. - -Without the exercise of any volition on his part it was slowly -inclining itself downwards. There was no mistaking the fact, and the -knowledge came upon him as a disagreeable surprise. It was as if the -serpent-rod had suddenly become instinct with life. - -His first impulse was to cast it from him, but thinking that its -downward motion might be due to the relaxed state of his muscles, -he raised and extended the stick horizontally: he kept it in that -position, but it was evident to his sense of feeling that the rod -manifested a tendency to assume an oblique direction, just as if a -thread were tied to its extremity, and some one below lightly pulling -it. - -What was the cause of this? Must he dismiss his former scepticism, -and believe in the powers of the divining rod? Had this staff of -witch-hazel, electrified by the nervous force of his own body, become -transformed for the moment into a sort of magnet, capable of being -attracted by metals? Was he standing on the site of the Viking's buried -treasure? Was the very treasure itself lying upon the clay flooring at -his feet? If he struck a match would his eye be caught by the sparkle -of silver and gold? No: he would reserve the light, and make what -discoveries he could without it. - -Relinquishing his hold of the metallic rod he dropped upon his knees, -and with his face bent low, put forth his hands. - - * * * * * * - -Hark! What was that? - -The silent watcher at the entrance started. - -A faint cry from the interior of the hillock as of one calling for -help, and then stillness. - -For some time Godfrey had kept his ear close to the flooring of the -passage, a position which enabled him to follow the footsteps of Idris. -But now these footsteps had ceased, their cessation being followed -shortly afterwards by the cry. - -Godfrey continued to listen, but though straining his ear to the -utmost he could not detect the faintest sound. A suspiciously horrible -stillness prevailed within. - -"Idris! Idris!" he called out, sending the full volume of his voice -along the passage: and "Idris! Idris!" was echoed from the roof in -tones that seemed like a mockery of his own. If the dead in the -sepulchral chamber were gibing at him the effect could not have been -more weird. - -Again he called aloud, and again there was no answer, save the echoes -of his own voice. - -"My God! what has happened?" he cried. - -There fell upon him a terror like that which has turned men's hair grey -in a single night. He did not doubt, he _could_ not doubt, that some -disaster had happened: he must hasten to the rescue: duty, humanity, -friendship, honour--all these blending together in a voice of thunder -urged him forward. Every moment was precious; and yet to venture into -the dark chamber without a light seemed a piece of folly, for what was -there to prevent him from meeting with the same fate as Idris? - -He rose to his feet and turned his eyes towards the cliffs and -sea-beach in the hope of seeing a coast-guard whose lantern would at -this juncture be of inestimable service. But alas! no coast-guard was -visible, and to go off in search of one was out of the question, when a -minute might make all the difference between life and death. - -No: he must venture in alone, and without a light, and he nerved -himself for the task. Casting one glance at the sky, the sea, the -land, as objects he might never see again, he snatched up the pickaxe -to serve as a weapon of defence, against he knew not whom or what, and -plunged into the mouth of the excavation that yawned black and grim -before him. - -His course through the passage was much quicker than that of Idris had -been. There could be no danger here, seeing that Idris had traversed it -in safety. Therefore the surgeon groped his way swiftly along the wall -of the corridor until it suddenly turned off at right angles, whence he -concluded that he was at the entrance of the sepulchral chamber. - -"Idris, where are you?" he cried. - -There was no vocal reply, but a faint splash greeted his ears like the -movement of a hand through water, a sound which Godfrey interpreted as -an answer. - -For a terrible idea had seized him. The floor of the chamber was of -earth only, and not of masonry, he thought: and the rain of centuries, -percolating through the roof, had converted this flooring into a -quagmire incapable of supporting the lightest weight. Idris had become -immersed in it: had just sunk below the surface: his voice was gone: he -had just given his last gasp! - -How was he to save him? One step forward, and he himself might be in -the abyss of mud. - -To test his opinion he flung the pickaxe forward, taking care to avoid -the spot whence came the splash. As it fell Godfrey drew a breath of -relief. The clangour made by the falling implement proved that the -quagmire was the creation of his fancy. Still, what had become of Idris -that he made no reply? He must be somewhere within this chamber, seeing -that there was no egress from it except by the passage. O for a light, -if only that of a match! Its momentary gleam would suffice to dispel -the mystery. - -He listened for Idris' breathing, but failed to detect any sound: -Idris, if he were really here, was as still as the dead. - -There was no other course for Godfrey than to grope about until he came -upon the body of Idris, an unpleasant task, seeing that it might bring -him into contact with the bones of Vikings! - -He started forward at random. Five paces, and his knee knocked against -some obstruction. Putting out his hand he ascertained that directly in -front of him was something formed of hewn stone. - -With an instinctive feeling that this was a tomb, Godfrey gave it a -wide range, and in so doing stumbled and fell over another object. - -It was a human body. In a moment Godfrey was upon his knees, and -passing his hand quickly over the prostrate figure he discovered that -it was Idris in a state of coma. - -Quickly he felt for the match-box which Idris had put into his vest -pocket, and on finding it, drew it forth. Taking out one of the -wax-lights he struck it on the side of the box. - -Never within Godfrey's experience had the striking of a match been -attended with a result so appalling, for he immediately found himself -in an atmosphere of many-coloured flame. The hot breath of a fiery -furnace glowed around, dazzling his eyes, scorching his face. - -In that moment of bewilderment and terror the words of the runic -ring flashed through his mind, and found expression in his gasping -articulation: - -"_The fires of the Asas!_" - -Simultaneously with the illumination a fierce detonation like a -powder-blast rent the air, and Godfrey, flung backwards as by a giant -hand, tumbled senseless to the ground. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -"WITHIN THE LOFTY TOMB" - - -Godfrey opened his eyes to find himself lying on the grassy slope of -Ormfell, staring up at the night-sky, with Idris kneeling beside him. A -cool sensation was playing around his neck, and, gradually waking up to -the reality of outward things, the surgeon discovered that his vest and -collar lay open to the breeze, and that Idris was sprinkling his face -with cold water-drops obtained from a pool close by. - -"Coming-to a little, I see," Idris observed cheerfully. "How do you -feel?" - -"Awfully queer and dizzy," replied Godfrey. - -He lifted himself to a sitting posture, utterly unable to account for -his present dazed condition. - -"You'll be all right in a few minutes. Take a pull at this -spirit-flask: that'll revive you. I owe my life to you, old fellow." - -"In what way?" asked Godfrey, his mind still too confused to recall the -recent accident. - -"Gaseous vapour would have claimed its victim. Your grandfather was -quite right in asserting this to be a carboniferous soil. Some of the -coal-gas has issued to the surface. The atmosphere within the hillock -was a mixture of carbon dioxide and floating fire-damp. Foolishly -creeping about, with mouth held to the ground, I took in such a whiff -of the one as to be quite overpowered by it before I had time to rise, -while the other exploded as soon as you struck the match." - -Godfrey, now quite alive to the past, gave an ejaculation of annoyance. - -"I'm a pretty doctor not to have warned you against noxious vapours! -It's a marvel we are both alive. But why was I not overpowered?" - -"Probably because you were not holding your face to the earth where the -gas collects, though very likely you, too, would have succumbed in a -few moments. However, all's well that ends well. Your striking a light -was a fortunate thing, for it appears to have acted like an electric -discharge in instantly clearing the air. True, you were stunned, but -I recovered; whether instantly by the explosion, or more slowly by -the purifying atmosphere, I cannot tell. All I know is I awoke, and -realizing what had happened, and feeling you beside me, I lost no time -in dragging you out into the open air. And here we are, none the worse -for our experience, I trust. No doubt it was occurrences like this that -caused the old Norsemen to believe that Odin guarded the tombs of the -dead by darting forth flames." - -"The fires of the Asas are real enough, after all," muttered Godfrey, -still feeling like one in a dream. "Hasn't the sound of the explosion -brought any one here?" - -"It seems not," said Idris, looking round. "So far we are safe. Old -Orm offers a stubborn resistance," he continued. "'He being dead, yet -fighteth.' But he is doomed to be defeated, for I will not go until I -have examined the interior of the hillock." - -"You are not thinking of venturing into that deathtrap again?" said -Godfrey, aghast. - -"There is no danger now: at least, not from gases. The explosion -dissolved them, and the outer air has had time to penetrate within. -Besides, forewarned is forearmed. We know our peril: if one of us -should be overpowered, the other must drag him out." - -"How can you make an investigation without a light?" - -"We shall have light enough. Fortunately, you snapped the lid of the -box tightly before striking your match--an action that effectually -screened the remaining two from the flame of the fire-damp." - -"Two matches will not help us much." - -"There you're wrong. We will take some of this brushwood inside and -light a bonfire: and the sooner we make a beginning the better. It's -two o'clock now. In another hour or so day will be dawning." - -Inwardly groaning at the perversity of his friend, Godfrey lent a hand -in collecting the materials necessary for the fire: and, not without -some trepidation, carried them through the dark passage into the -mortuary chamber, the atmosphere of which, as his nostrils assured him, -had become considerably clarified since his previous visit. - -Fearing that the two matches when kindled might expire before he could -fire the twigs, which were damp with the afternoon's rain, Idris drew -forth a small book, a pocket edition of _Hamlet_, and proceeded to -detach leaf after leaf, twisting them into spirals. These he handed -to Godfrey, enjoining him to keep a flame alive by kindling one from -another till the twigs should have fairly caught. - -"Now to strike the fateful match!" he said. "Pray heaven the Asas do -not give us another pyrotechnic display!" - -He cautiously struck the match. Godfrey instantly kindled one of his -paper-spirals from the flame. - -"No fireworks this time, you see," remarked Idris, as all remained -quiet. "This is what may be called _making light_ of Shakespeare," he -added, as, taking the kindled papers one after another from Godfrey's -hand, he applied them to the leaves and twigs, endeavouring to force -them into a blaze. - -The pale, bluish glare that sprang up made the chamber faintly visible. -Idris, intent on his task of ignition saw nothing but the brushwood -before him, but Godfrey could not refrain from casting a timid glance -around, even at the risk of extinguishing the lighted paper in his hand. - -There was, however, nothing very dreadful in the scene before him. He -found himself standing in a chamber about twenty feet square, the sides -of which were composed of rough-hewn blocks of masonry, glistening -with moisture, and dotted with patches of fungous growth. The roof -was formed by a layer of tree-trunks, necessarily of great size and -strength in order to support the vast weight above. The floor seemed -to be of earth, its surface glimmering here and there with tiny black -pools, formed by the constant dropping of moisture from the roof. - -But the treasures deposited of old by Hilda the Alruna for her son, -Magnus of Deira--where were they? Well for Idris that he had not set -his heart on finding them, for the chamber was bare, save for one -object in the centre. This was the sarcophagus-like structure against -which Godfrey had collided when looking for Idris' body. By the -flickering light he could see that this receptacle was of oblong shape, -the sides consisting of four upright stone slabs let into the earth, -with a fifth one resting upon them like a lid. - -Idris had now succeeded in his task, and the twigs and branches blazing -up cast over the chamber a ruddy glow sufficiently bright for the -taking of observations. - -"This is better than a lantern. I warrant the place hasn't looked so -cheerful for centuries," remarked Idris, as he stood by the blaze and -took a survey of the chamber. - -"Cheerful at present, perhaps, but in ten minutes we shall be smoked -out." - -[Illustration] - -"I think not. This fire will burn bright and clear presently, and will -give out little smoke." - -Taking up a lighted brand from the fire Idris moved forward and began -his investigations with the tomb by making a scrutiny of its lid. - -"No inscription here, runic or otherwise.--Humph! shall we supply one, -HIC JACET ORMUS.--Now to remove this slab! Let us see if there -are bones beneath." - -Too eager to wait for Godfrey's assistance he seized the lid with one -hand, and, exerting all his strength, swung it off laterally. - -A cry of surprise, rather than of alarm, broke from him, as he caught -sight of a full-sized human skeleton lying within. A burning fragment -from the torch he carried dropped within the teeth of the skeleton, -where, still continuing to glow, it lit up the skull with weird effect, -the red flicker giving an apparent motion to the grinning jaws and -eyeless sockets. - -"Are these the remains of your Viking?" asked Godfrey. - -"Can there be doubt about it? This is old Orm, or what is left of him," -replied Idris, holding the torch low over the skeleton.--"Here reposes -one who, I doubt not, made a brave figure in his day. And now? 'None so -poor to do him reverence.' The people of Ormsby do not know even his -name, and yet he was the founder of their town, its nomenclator, in -fact. The old Greeks would have raised a statue and an altar to him in -their market-place, and have worshipped him as their hero eponymous. -And here he lies neglected and forgotten! - - - 'Shade of the mighty! can it be - That this is all remains of thee?' - - -"Is this wasted bone the 'high arm' spoken of on the runic ring? Where -be now its feats of strength? And where is the wealth won by his -ashen spear? the riches that conferred upon him the epithet of Golden? -the treasure placed within the 'lofty tomb' by his wife, Hilda, the -Norse prophetess? Vanished! Whither? Removed by whom? and when? Did -Magnus of Deira really receive the runic ring despatched to him by his -mother? Did he come here in ancient days to remove his heritage, or -has the treasure been taken by other, perhaps modern, hands? If so, by -whose? By the masked man of Quilaix's? By Captain Rochefort's or by my -father's? Have they left behind any trace of their visit?" - -His eyes roving around the chamber were attracted by a fabric lying at -the foot of one of the walls. - -"What have we here?" he said, stepping forward and picking it up. "A -piece of cloth! Will this give us a clue to the men who were here last?" - -For better inspection he carried the cloth to the light of the fire. -When unrolled the fabric proved to be oblong in shape, six feet by -four, its edges very much frayed, and its surface so defaced by clay -that it was impossible at first to discover its texture, colour, or use. - -"I see what it is," he remarked at last. "Look at that triangular shred -of cloth hanging from the metallic rod: its shape tallies with the -triangular rent in this fabric. This has been torn from that rail: it -is a part of the tapestry that once decked the walls of this chamber. I -am disappointed again; I thought to find a modern vesture, and am put -off with ancient tapestry." - -He began to scrape the fabric with his penknife. - -"I can detect some coloured threads," he went on. "It is figured -arras: but it is impossible at present to make out what the figures -are. Here are some letters, too. I can detect N. and T. We must keep -this. When cleaned it may prove to be an interesting 'find'--of a more -ancient date, unless my chronology be at fault, than the famous Bayeux -Tapestry. What puzzles me is, why the man who carried off the rest of -the tapestry should leave this behind him." - -"Probably because it is a torn remnant." - -"But it would be a very simple matter to sew it to the main piece -again. Do you notice how the rail is bent where the three cornered bit -is?" - -Godfrey looked and saw that the rod was bent downwards. - -"What inference do you draw from that?" Idris asked. - -"That somebody must have been tugging heavily at the tapestry to cause -such a curvature." - -"Exactly. But why should any one wrench so violently at the tapestry, -tapestry that was evidently regarded as valuable, otherwise it would -not have been carried off?" - -Godfrey shrugged his shoulders at the apparent irrelevancy of Idris' -remarks. - -"Your question is not susceptible of an answer." - -"True--at present. But an investigator should take note of every -circumstance, however trifling, although at the time he may fail to -discern its true significance." - -"But seeing that the tapestry may have been carried off centuries ago, -it is difficult to discover the present application of your remark." - -"On the other hand it may have been carried off only recently: it -is these recent traces that I wish to find. Somehow, this bent rod -attracts me. Ah!" - -Whilst speaking thus he suddenly recalled an incident that had occurred -during his previous exploration in the dark. - -"Godfrey, your divining rod. I am half-a-believer in its powers. At any -rate I am going to try an experiment." - -Taking the hazel stick he walked to that part of the wall where the -shred of tapestry hung. - -"Either I am dreaming," he said, "or a singular experience befell me at -this spot." - -Standing in the same position as before he extended the stick -horizontally, explaining to Godfrey the reason for his act. - -But Solomon's saying, "The thing that hath been, it is that which shall -be," was not verified on the present occasion. Though Idris waited -patiently for several minutes the rod manifested none of the downward -tendency that it had previously shown. - -Godfrey himself took the stick and tried the experiment, but with no -better result. He expressed his opinion that Idris must have been the -victim of an illusion: but to this Idris would not assent. - -"The rod does not turn now, that's clear. But that it _did_ turn I am -confident. It was no fancy of mine." - -"Let us dig," said Godfrey, "and see whether there is anything beneath -the soil that could have caused it." - -With these words he took up the spade and began digging. Idris followed -his example, wielding the pickaxe, but found, after a few strokes, -that some hard substance prevented the point of the implement from -penetrating to a greater depth than three or four inches. - -"This earth is mere superficial deposit, percolations from the roof," -said Idris. "There is a stone flooring beneath." - -In a few moments they had cleared away the terrene deposit, discovering -nothing however, except a block of smooth masonry, at which Idris dealt -a few strokes by way of experiment. - -"Humph! seems solid enough. The dull sound given forth is hardly -suggestive of a cavity. What made the rod curve, I wonder?" - -Finding no answer to this question, he turned reluctantly away, -and began to explore other parts of the chamber. He made a careful -examination of its flooring, allowing no part of it to escape him. With -the spade he swept aside the black water from the tiny hollows, and -with the pickaxe he probed the ground at various points, discovering -everywhere stone pavement beneath the superficial covering of earth. - -The object that he was hoping to find--a match-box, or a button -bearing the maker's name; the dated sheet of a newspaper; a scrap of -handwriting: a handkerchief, marked with the owner's initials: or some -article of like character--existed only in his fancy. A thorough search -on the part of the two friends failed to bring anything to light, -either on the surface of the floor, or embedded within the clay. - -There was nothing to indicate the date at which the tumulus had been -last entered: whether ten, twenty, or a hundred years before. For all -they could tell to the contrary, many centuries might have passed since -its interior had been trodden by human footsteps. - -Relinquishing at last his fruitless labours Idris seated himself on the -edge of the Viking's tomb with disappointment written on his features. - -"I have so long clung to the hope that this place would afford a clue -to the finding of my father, that I cannot give up the notion even -now, when its futility seems most apparent. You may think me fanciful, -Godfrey, but something seems to whisper that there _are_ traces of him -here, if I did but know where to look for them. And yet, I suppose, we -have done all that it is possible to do?" - -He rose again from his seat and scrutinized the four walls of the -chamber, sounding them with the pickaxe. - -"There does not appear to be any cell or passage behind these," he -muttered. - -He turned his eyes upwards, and took a survey of the black tree trunks -forming the roof of the chamber: and finished his investigations -by probing the dust of the Viking's tomb with the end of the -walking-stick, but made no further discovery. - -"So end my hopes of finding my father," he muttered sadly. "My labour -has been expended on a vain quest. Years of search throughout Europe: -years of study over runic letters, end in--a dead man's bones!--How -this old fellow grins! One would think he enjoys my discomfiture. I -shall take his skull back with me." - -"Why, in heaven's name?" - -"A whim of mine, nothing more. I have taken a fancy for the skull, and -the skull I will have. So old Orm," he continued, stooping down and -detaching the grisly head-piece from the vertebral column, "prepare to -face the light of day after a sleep of centuries in darkness." - -"Put it back again," said Godfrey. "What good can it do you? You can't -possibly put it to any use." - -"The skull of a brave Viking is a trophy well worth preserving, a noble -ornament for my sideboard. And if you talk of use, there are several -uses to which I can put it. I may set it with silver, and convert it -into a drinking-cup, like that used by Byron. Or I may turn it into a -pretty lamp to write tragedy by, after the fashion of the poet Young. -Or, imitating the old Egyptians, I may use it as a table-decoration -to remind me of death, and of the vanity of all things human. The -skull will be a souvenir of our expedition, a memento of an experience -unique, at least, in my life.--So hurrah!" he cried, holding the trophy -aloft, "HURRAH FOR THE VIKING'S SKULL!" - - * * * * * * - -Day was dawning when Idris and Godfrey reached home, after concealing, -so far as lay in their power, the traces of their night's work. -Beatrice, who had been sitting up anxiously awaiting their return, gave -a little scream when she beheld their blackened faces. - -"Heavens! what has happened?" she cried. - -Over the repast that she had kept in readiness for them Idris gave -an account of the expedition, finishing his story by producing the -relics he had brought away with him, namely, the Viking's skull and the -fragment of tapestry. - -"Let us have some warm water, Trixie," said Godfrey. "We will try to -clean this tapestry." - -A bowl of warm water was soon procured, Godfrey diluting it with a -powder brought by him from his surgery. - -"A chemical preparation of my own," he explained, "warranted to take -out stains without injuring the cloth." - -Under Beatrice's manipulation the relic gradually disclosed itself as a -piece of brownish-coloured linen, divided by a vertical line of black -thread into two sections of unequal length. Each section consisted of a -picture woven in woollen threads on the linen background, and each was -fragmentary in character, the beginning of the one and the end of the -other being torn away. - -The left section represented a battle-field: spears were hurtling in -air: two warriors were lying prostrate, and a third, a yellow-haired -hero, his bare arms flung aloft, was in the act of falling backwards, -his breast pierced by an arrow. These figures, drawn to a scale of -about half the human size, were in a good state of preservation. The -colours of the garments had scarcely faded: the golden filaments -composing the shields still retained their brightness: and the swords, -woven from silver threads, glinted in the rising sunlight, as Beatrice -moved the fabric to and fro. To this section was attached the -subscription:--"HIC ORMUM AUREUM OCCIDUNT." - -"What do these words mean?" Beatrice asked. - -"'Here they kill Orm the Golden,'" Idris replied. - -"Orm the Golden," Godfrey repeated. "You are right, then, Idris, in -your theory as to that tumulus being the tomb of the warrior spoken of -on the runic ring. I confess that till this moment I have had my doubts -on the point, but this piece of tapestry is decisive." - -In the other section of the cloth the same warrior, still pierced -by the arrow, was represented as lying prone upon the earth: two -figures, those of a woman and of a boy, were bending over him. That -it was night-time was shown by the torches they carried. The woman -had evidently come to bear off the body of the dead chief. The words, -"HILDA INVENIT"--were clearly discernible; the rest of the -inscription was wanting. - -"'Hilda finds'--Orm, I suppose the next word would be, if we had the -inscription in full," said Idris. "Hilda--the lady of the runic ring, -you will remember. This other figure is perhaps intended for her -son Magnus: if so, it is clear that he was a lad at the time of his -father's death, which may account for his mother's act in hiding the -treasure in Ormfell. There it was to remain till her son should be of -age to defend his heritage. The roll of tapestry suspended round the -tomb was evidently, when entire, a complete record in needlework of the -life of Orm the Viking. It must have formed an interesting relic of -Norse times. A pity we haven't the whole of it." - -"And so this is Hilda the Alruna!" mused Beatrice, contemplating the -figure on the tapestry. "How curiously we are linked with the past! To -think that the expedition in which you nearly lost your lives is the -result of a sentence engraved on a Norse altar-ring a thousand years -ago by the lady portrayed on this piece of needlework! She had dark -hair, if this be her 'counterfeit presentment.' And to think, too, that -we possess the very skull of the yellow-haired Viking pictured here! It -sounds too romantic to be true. Where are you going to put your grisly -trophy, Mr. Breakspear?" - -"The head of the staircase is the orthodox place." - -"The orthodox place?" repeated Beatrice, puzzled by the expression. - -"Some ancient houses keep a skull as part of the furnishings," Idris -explained. "It is supposed to bring good luck, and the head of the -staircase is its usual place, any removal of it being fraught with -danger to the house. Of course this is foolery, but----" - -"But still we may as well be in the fashion," smiled Beatrice, "and so -I'll put it where you say." - -The Viking's skull was therefore taken by her to the embrasure of the -window that looked down the staircase, after which act Beatrice went -off for a brief spell of sleep, this being the first time she had ever -gone to bed at sun-rising. - -Godfrey, preparing to follow her example, lingered for a moment, -attracted by the appearance of the water in which the tapestry had been -cleansed. - -"How red this water is!" he murmured. "To what is the colour due?" - -"Probably to the reddish coloured clay with which the cloth was -stained," replied Idris. - -"It may be so," said the physician, slowly and thoughtfully, "but -if I remember rightly, the clay in that part of the chamber where -the tapestry lay was not red at all. The appearance of this water is -certainly curious. One might almost take it for blood!" - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -LORELIE RIVIÈRE - - -The expedition to Ormfell had been a failure from Idris' point of view. -Deaf to the voice of reason he had clung to the idea that the Viking's -tomb held a clue that would aid him in finding his father. Having now -received clear proof of the fallacy of that hope Idris, after a few -hours' sleep, wandered forth by the seashore to consider what his next -step should be. - -It was an afternoon of brilliant sunshine. The tide was out, but -without making any inquiries as to the time of its return, he strolled -leisurely onward, wrapped in meditation. - -Casually raising his eyes from the ribbed sea-sand he caught sight -of a structure, locally known as "The Stairs of David." This was an -arrangement of three ladders, suspended one above another on the face -of the cliff, which at this point rose vertically to a height of more -than a hundred feet. Iron hooks kept these ladders in position. The -structure, a very frail one, had been put up originally to enable -crab-fishers to reach this part of the beach with more expedition. - -Still deep in thought Idris passed on, and had left the ladder about a -mile in his rear, when he suddenly paused and looked in the direction -of the murmuring sound--the sound he had heard for some time, but to -which he had given no heed. - -The tide was coming in, and coming in so quickly, that unless he -hastened back at once he ran the risk of being drowned: for steep -cliffs rose above him, and the open beach was at least five miles away. - -Just on the point of setting off at a run he was checked by the -recollection of "The Stairs of David." It would be easy to scale the -cliff by means of this structure. - -He moved onward at a leisurely pace, and then stopped abruptly. What -was that object rising and falling on the surface of the water a few -yards in rear of the advancing line of foam? Let "The Stairs of David" -be far off or close by, he must satisfy his curiosity before mounting -them. - -He ran to the edge of the breakers, and, with a thrill of surprise, -discovered that the undulating object was a woman's hat. - -How came it there? He had not, so far as he could remember, encountered -anybody in his walk along the shore. He looked over the dancing waves, -but neither boat nor vessel was visible: he looked up and down the -beach: he looked along the craggy summit of the cliffs that rose in -frowning grandeur above him, but could see neither man nor woman. He -stood, a solitary figure, on a shore that stretched away north and -south for many miles. - -Regardless of the advancing tide he remained motionless, fascinated -by the sight of the hat, his uneasiness deepening each moment. There -was something familiar in the grey felt with its once graceful feather -bedrenched with the salt spray. - -He advanced into the shallow water and lifted the hat for a closer -survey. It was rarely that Idris took note of a woman's attire, but he -could recall every detail of the dress worn by Mademoiselle Rivière on -the day he saw her in the Ravengar Chantry, and he knew that this hat -was hers. - -His heart, weighted by a terrible idea, sank within him like lead. -Half expecting to see a dead form come floating past he glanced again -over the surface of the rippling tide. - -He now recollected, what he had hitherto forgotten, that there were -dangerous quicksands along this part of the coast. Must he believe that -Mademoiselle Rivière had become engulfed, and that the tide was now -foaming jubilantly over her head? - -Once more he looked along the shore, and, as he looked, his pulses -thrilled with a sudden and delicious relief; for at the sandy base of a -distant cliff he caught sight of a figure lying prone. - -Dropping the hat he hurried over the intervening space, and in a moment -more was kneeling beside the form of Lorelie Rivière. Beneath her lay -the third and lowest of the three ladders that formed the so-called -"Stairs of David." She had been either ascending or descending the -frail structure, and it had given way. The ladder, worm-eaten with age, -had snapped into three portions on touching the sands, and the shock of -its fall had deprived her of consciousness. - -Her eyelids were closed. Silent and motionless she lay, her breathing -so faint as scarce to seem breathing at all, her delicate fingers still -clinging to a rung of the fallen ladder. - -"Thank heaven, she is alive!" murmured Idris, a great dread rolling -from his heart. - -He gently detached her fingers from the rung of the ladder, and, -tenderly raising her, rested her head upon his knee, turning her face -towards the breeze. As he did so, the murmuring sound, that had never -once ceased, seemed to swell louder, and his heart almost leaped into -his mouth when he noticed how rapidly the tide was advancing. - -That terrible tide! - -Were it not for the rush of waters swirling forward he might have -thought that some good fairy was favouring his heart's dearest wish. -The loveliest maiden whom he had ever seen was resting within his arms, -dependent upon him for safety. But what safety could he give? Their -position seemed hopeless. The last rung of the middle ladder hung -forty feet or more above his head. The lowest ladder lay on the sands -in three portions, and he realized at a glance the impossibility of -refixing them in their original position. - -"No boat in sight! Impossible to scale the cliffs! Too far to swim with -her to Ormsby! What is to be our fate?" he muttered. - -Idris had often looked death in the face, but never in circumstances -so hard as these. Was he to die holding this fair maiden in his arms, -helplessly witnessing her death-gasps? And the voice of the sea, -swelling ever higher and higher, seemed to give an answering cry of -"Yes, yes!" - -The breeze blowing full upon her face had a reviving effect upon her. -Slowly she opened her eyes, and a look of innocent wonder came over her -face when she met Idris' earnest gaze bent upon her. - -"You fell from the ladder, you remember," he said, answering the -question in her eyes. "Are you hurt? Have you broken any bones?" - -"I--I think not," was the reply. - -"Shall I help you to stand?" - -She assented. But no sooner was she raised to her feet than throbs of -pain began to shoot through her left ankle, and she leaned for support -against the cliff, resting her right foot only upon the sand. - -"My ankle pains me. I don't think I can walk." - -While thus speaking she chanced to look upward at the ladder hanging -far above her head, and then, lowering her eyes to the flowing sea, -she suddenly took in the full peril of their position. - -"The tide! the tide!" she murmured, clasping her hands. "We are lost." - -"We certainly mustn't remain here. And if you cannot walk I must carry -you." - -Idris' cheerful and brisk air did not deceive her. Glancing from left -to right she saw the futility of his proposal as well as he saw it -himself. - -The contour of the shore formed a semicircular bay many miles in -length, and its sands were lined by a wall of lofty perpendicular -cliffs without a single gap to break their continuity. Idris and his -companion were standing somewhere near the centre of this curve. The -tide, extending in a straight line across the bay, had now closed in -upon the extreme points of the arc-like sweep, and was still advancing, -covering the sand and reducing at each moment the extent of their -standing room. Before Idris could have carried her half-a-mile the sea -would be breaking many feet deep upon the base of the cliffs. - -"You cannot save me," said Mademoiselle Rivière, a sudden calmness -coming over her. "It is impossible. You must leave me and try to save -yourself." - -The gentle maiden, whom a harsh word melts to tears, will often face -death with fortitude, the great crisis evoking all the latent heroism -of her nature. So it was now, and Idris, looking into the depth of -Mademoiselle Rivière's steadfast eyes, caught a glimpse of how those -Christian women may have looked who faced martyrdom in the pagan days -of old. Strange that a maiden, seemingly so good and brave, should have -excited the aversion of Beatrice! - -"If you die, I die with you," said Idris. "But I have no intention of -letting either you or myself die. There is a way of escape open to us." - -For, with a sudden thrill of joy, he remembered that, at a point a few -hundred yards to the north of their present position, he had passed -a great pile of rocks, fallen crags detached from the sides of the -overhanging precipice. The spot was invisible from where he now stood, -being hidden behind a projecting buttress of the cliff, but he judged -that the summit of this rocky mass was certainly above high-water mark. -There he and Mademoiselle Rivière must remain till the ebb of the tide, -unless they should be so fortunate as to attract the notice of some -passing boat. - -Making known his intention, Idris added, "Pardon me; this is no time -for ceremony." - -He lifted her in his arms, and she, with a sudden and natural revulsion -in favour of life, submitted to his will, placing her arms around his -neck to steady her person. - -The humming sea, as if bent on securing its victims, came foaming with -threatening rapidity over the bare stretch of sand, throwing forward -long streamlets, that, like eager creatures in a race, seemed striving -with each other to be first at the foot of the cliff. - -Though Lorelie Rivière was but a light weight Idris' progress -was necessarily slow. At each step his foot sank deeper into the -rapidly-moistening sand, and ere long the water itself was swirling -round his ankles, and flinging its sparkling spray against the base of -the precipice. And yet in all his life he had never experienced the -pure joy that filled him at that moment. The woman whom he most loved -was reclining within his arms, and clasped so closely to him, that he -could feel her breast swelling against his own, and her hair touching -his cheek. There was a subtle charm in the situation: what wonder, -then, that he desired to prolong it, and that he moved at a slower pace -as he drew near the pile of fallen crags? - -The desired haven was gained at last, and Mademoiselle Rivière, partly -by her own efforts and partly with the help of Idris, clambered up the -face of the slippery and weed-grown rocks, the top of which formed an -irregular, hummocky platform, a few yards in extent. - -"Saved!" she murmured, sinking down and scarcely able to repress a -tendency to cry. "But will not the tide cover this ledge?" - -"No. See here!" replied Idris, plucking a weed beside her. "Samphire! -It never grows below salt water. We are quite safe." - -Mademoiselle Rivière clasped her hands: her lips moved, and Idris knew -that she was breathing a silent prayer. - -"You have saved my life," she said, looking up at him with gratitude -shining from her eyes. "How can I thank you?" - -Though he had seen Mademoiselle Rivière but once, and then for a moment -only: though this was his first time of conversing with her, Idris -intuitively felt that she was the one woman in the world for him: and -that though happiness might be possible apart from her, such happiness -would be but the shadow of that derivable from her undivided love. - -Fortune was certainly favouring him. He would have given half his -wealth to any one who could have brought about such a situation as -the present, and lo! the event had happened naturally, of itself, -and without any premeditation on his part. It was wonderful! Many -hours might pass ere he and Mademoiselle Rivière could quit the spot -where they now were. He determined to make good use of this golden -opportunity. He would exert all his powers to gain a place, if not -in her affection, at least in her friendship, so that her feeling on -parting from him should contain something of regret. - -"How can I thank you?" she repeated. - -"By not thanking me. How did the accident happen?" - -"My hat was the cause of it all. I was standing on the edge of the -cliff when the wind carried it off to the sands below. Not wishing to -return home bare-headed, I clambered down 'The Stairs of David' after -it. The ladder gave way, and I fell. A sudden stop, and I remember no -more." - -"It was well the ground at the foot of the cliff was soft sand," said -Idris. - -"It was well, as you say," replied Mademoiselle Rivière with a shiver. -"I shall never forget the sensation of falling through the air." - -"Does your ankle still pain you?" Idris asked, observing that she -shrank from placing her left foot on the ground. - -"A little," she smiled. - -"You are sure it is not dislocated--broken?" - -"O no; it is merely a sprain. How long shall we have to remain here?" -she added. - -This was a question that Idris himself had been considering. It -appeared that Mademoiselle Rivière, on setting out for her walk, had -not told any one of the direction she had intended to take: Idris had -been similarly negligent. Hence it was very unlikely that men from -Ormsby would come cruising along the shore in boats to search for them. -To scale the precipice was out of the question. To shout for aid would -be of little avail, for as the cliff above them was lofty, and the -highroad ran a considerable distance from its edge, there was little -probability that their voices would be heard. Their position rendered -it impossible to make any signals that would be visible at Ormsby, that -town being situated just behind the cliff that formed one extremity of -the bay. - -"I fear," said Idris, after considering all these things, "that our -captivity is dependent upon the good graces of the tide." - -"And the tide will be several hours in turning," said Mademoiselle -Rivière. "Well, I suppose I must play the philosopher, and accept the -situation. It is certainly better to be here than under the waves." - -If her beauty charmed Idris, her manner, pleasant and without -affectation, charmed him still more. - -So interested had he been in her companionship that he had hitherto -failed to notice that the face of the overhanging cliff was pierced by -a deep cavern, the mouth of which was on a level with the top of their -rocky platform. - -"What is this?" he said, stepping forward to take a closer view. "A -cave, as I live. A coast-guard's place for watching smugglers, I -suppose." - -"That must be the 'Hermit's Cave,'" said Mademoiselle Rivière, turning -her eyes upon it, "so named from an ancient recluse who is said to have -made it his home. I am told that the chair in which he sat is still to -be seen, cut out of the solid rock." - -"Excellent! You must occupy that seat, mademoiselle. It will be more -pleasant there than sitting out here upon this slippery windy rock." - -She rose, glad of the proposed change, for the wind was playing -confusion with her hair. Observing her wince, as her left foot touched -the ground, Idris said, with a smile:-- - -"You had better let me carry you." - -Lorelie coloured, neither assenting nor opposing. Since Idris had -carried her once it would be prudery to resist now, and so, knowing -that she must either accept his aid or else crawl to the spot upon her -hands and knees, she entrusted herself to his arms, and in this way -gained the entrance of the cave, which was of considerable extent, and -strewn with logs, planks, and odd pieces of timber. - -"Where does all this wood come from?" she asked. - -"Wreckage-timber, probably; doubtless placed here by the coast-guard to -be used as firing in cold weather. See! here is the hermit's seat you -spoke of," said Idris, indicating a piece of rock jutting from the wall -of the cave near its entrance. It had been hollowed out by art into the -rude resemblance of an armchair, and within this recess Idris placed -his companion. - -"I hope you dined well before setting out," he said, "for our grotto -offers nothing in the shape of commissariat." - -"I am somewhat thirsty," replied Lorelie, as she turned her eyes upon a -tiny spring of water, which, issuing from a fissure in the wall of the -cave, flowed silently down into a depression hollowed out in the floor, -just beside the hermit's seat; then, overflowing from the basin into -a groove of its own making, the water became lost in an orifice a few -feet distant. - -"Here is a remedy for thirst," said Idris. "The daily drink of our -hermit. 'The waters of Siloah that go softly,' was perhaps his name for -it. The eremite's crockeryware having perished, how do you propose to -drink?" - -"With Nature's cup," smiled Lorelie, curving her hands into the shape -of a bowl. - -Mindful of her ankle she slid cautiously upon her knees and bent, a -charming picture, over the pool. - -"How clear and still," she murmured. "Its surface is like a mirror." - -"Then do not gaze too long upon it, lest you meet the fate of -Narcissus." - -"Narcissus?" she repeated, looking up at him with inquiring eyes. - -"He died from the reflection of his own loveliness." - -Idris regretted his words almost in the very moment of their utterance, -for he could tell by the sudden clouding of her face that she was -averse to the language of gallantry. Clearly she was not a woman to -be won by empty compliment, and he resolved to steer clear of such a -quicksand. He was glad to observe that when she had resumed her seat -the pleasant smile was again on her lip. - -Attentive to every variation in her countenance he began to discern two -moods in Lorelie Rivière: the one vivacious and sprightly, and this -seemed to be her original disposition: the other, pensive and sad, the -result, so he judged, of some secret sorrow. - -He longed to know more of this fair lady, slighted by Beatrice; the -lady who had once lived at Nantes in the very house that fronted the -scene of the murder of Duchesne, that murder for which his father had -been condemned: the lady who was erecting in St. Oswald's Churchyard a -marble cross inscribed with an epitaph that seemed almost applicable to -his father's case: the lady whose playing upon the organ had wrought so -weird an effect upon his mind. - -All these things contributed to invest Lorelie Rivière with a charming -air of mystery, but Idris recognized that the time was not yet ripe to -press for confidences. - -Dragging a few logs forward he disposed them so as to form a seat for -himself near the entrance of the cavern, remarking as he did so:-- - -"We must not forget to look out for passing boats." - -The afternoon sun was filling the air with a dusky golden glow. The -waves dancing and sparkling below the mouth of the cave flashed -emerald and sapphire hues upon its roof, irradiating the place with an -ever-changing light. - -To Idris the situation was a charming tableau, a living idyll, and one -that was rendered all the more pleasant by contrast with their recent -perilous position. Mademoiselle Rivière trembled as she reflected on -what might have happened but for the chance passing of this stranger. -Strange that until this moment it had not occurred to her to ask his -name! - -"You know my name," she said, "but I have yet to learn yours." - -"My name is Breakspear," he replied, withholding his true patronymic; -and feeling as he spoke a sense of shame of having to deceive her even -in so small a matter; "Idris Breakspear." - -"_Idris!_" she said, with a sudden start, as if the name had touched -some chord in her memory. "Idris! It is a somewhat uncommon name." - -"We will say, then, that its rarity is a point in its favour," smiled -Idris, who had observed her start, and wondered at the cause. - -"Have we not met before, Mr. Breakspear?" - -"I saw you two days ago in the Ravengar Chantry," he replied. He did -not say, as he might truthfully have said, that during these two days -he had been thinking of little else but that brief meeting. "Miss -Ravengar and I," he continued, "had been listening to your recital -on the organ. I must congratulate you on your skill as a musician, -Mademoiselle Rivière. May I ask the name of the last chant you played? -Was it taken from some oratorio, or was it your own improvisation?" - -"The last chant?" repeated Lorelie, with a pensive air. "Let me think? -What was it? Did it run like this?" - -And in a sweet silvery tone she trilled off a bar which Idris -immediately recognized as a part of the refrain that had been played by -her. - -"That is the 'Ravengar Funeral March,'" explained Lorelie. "Its origin -goes far back into the depths of the dark ages, tradition affirming -that it is the composition of an ancient scald, and was first chanted -at the burial of the old Norse chieftain who founded the Ravengar -family. It has been the custom to play it at the funeral of every -Ravengar, though he would be a bold person who should say that the tune -has not undergone variations in its descent to our times. The unknown -minstrel with whom it originated was a genius, a mediæval Mozart. Could -you not fancy that you heard the tread of numerous feet in procession, -the clang of shield and spear, the groans of warriors, the plaintive -weeping of women?" - -"It certainly _was_ a weird requiem; it moved me as no other piece of -music ever has." - -And then, absorbed in a new idea, Idris forgot for the moment the -presence of even Lorelie Rivière. - -"What are these Ravengars to me," he thought, "or am I to them, that -their Funeral Chant should produce in me such clairvoyant sensations?" - -This question was succeeded by another. How had Mademoiselle Rivière -become familiar with this requiem? As if in answer to his thoughts -Lorelie remarked:-- - -"I heard Viscount Walden play it once in Venice: he gave it as a -specimen of the weird and uncanny in music. It so took my fancy that I -did not rest till I had obtained a copy of it." - -It was somewhat disquieting to learn that she had met Lord Walden -abroad, and that she was on terms of sufficient friendship to beg from -him a copy of music. Had this friendship changed into something deeper? -Was he to regard Lord Walden in the light of a rival? Had Mademoiselle -Rivière come to Ormsby in order to be near the viscount? In saving her -from being overwhelmed by the tide Idris had doubtless gained a high -place in her favour, but then gratitude is not love, and Ravenhall and -a coronet were powerful attractions. - -"Do you often play at St. Oswald's Church?" he asked, after an interval -of silence. - -"Yes. I find a charm in its 'dim religious light.'" - -"And the quietude of the place," said Idris, "is also favourable to the -study of mediæval historians--_Paulus Diaconus_, for example." - -"Ah! Mr. Breakspear," she said, "so it was _you_ who carried off my -book from the organ-loft. I guessed as much when I went back, and found -it gone. You must not forget to return it, for I value it highly. Now, -confess, that you have wondered why I, a woman, should take to poring -over that old Lombard historian?" - -"Curiosity is not confined to the sex with whom it is supposed to have -originated," smiled Idris, "and I am willing to admit, mademoiselle, -that I _have_ been puzzled. The book does not belong to the style of -literature usually patronized by ladies." - -"_Merci!_ I regard that last remark as a compliment. Well, I will -explain the mystery, if you will promise to keep the matter a secret." -And upon Idris giving his assurance, she continued: "I am trying -to write a poetical play, a tragedy relating to the times of the -Italo-Lombard kings, and as I do not wish to commit anachronisms, it -behoves me to study the historical authorities in the original." - -"I understand," answered Idris, his opinion of Lorelie rising higher -than ever: besides being a musician and a Latin scholar, she was also a -poetess! "And what are you going to call your play?" - -"'The Fatal Skull,'" she replied. "You look surprised, Mr. Breakspear. -Is there already a play of that name?" - -"I have never heard of it." - -"Because one must not borrow another author's title, is it not so?" - -"_The Fatal Skull!_" Idris could not but think it a curious coincidence -that Lorelie's drama should bear such a title, when he himself at this -time was much interested in a skull, to wit, that of Orm the Viking. - -"Why so weird a title, mademoiselle?" - -"Because it is appropriate to the leading incident in the piece: for -the play turns on the famous historic banquet at which the Lombard -Queen Rosamond was forced by her husband to drink from her father's -skull. So now you understand, Mr. Breakspear," she went on, "that -wherever the words 'Fatal Skull,' or the initials 'F. S.,' occur in the -margin of my book, they mean that there is something in the passage -thus marked capable of being worked into my drama." - -"And when do you intend to publish it?" - -"Not yet: perhaps never. I write, not for fame, but for my own -pleasure." - -"Do not say that, mademoiselle. If one has noble thoughts the world -will be the better for hearing them. I hope, therefore, to see the day -when your work will be published: nay, more, I hope to see it acted." - -"It is kind of you to say so," she murmured. The light of pleasure -in her eyes, and the colour mantling her cheek, so enhanced her -beauty that it was with difficulty the impulsive Idris could repress -the temptation of telling her of his love. But, even as he watched, -the look of pleasure faded from her face, and there succeeded the -melancholy air that he had previously noticed, an air that said almost -as plainly as words, "I am forgetting myself: it is not for me to be -glad." - -Yet the smile returned to her lip when Idris ventured upon a suggestion. - -"I see neither boat nor vessel within hail," he remarked, glancing over -the sea. "We have several hours yet before us. Now in the Christmas -tales, you know, when the stage-coach passengers are snowed up at -the country-inn, or the sea-voyagers wrecked on the lonely isle, they -always beguile the time by story-telling. It's the orthodox thing to -do. Suppose we imitate them." - -"A good idea! and," added Lorelie archly, "it becomes the mover of the -proposition to take the initiative." - -"Caught in the net I was preparing for another!" smiled Idris. "I was -hoping to hear you recite some portions of your play. But that will -come later. Well, mademoiselle, what shall my story be?" - -"You said a while ago that you have led a somewhat adventurous life, -and that you once took part in a battle. I call for some of your -adventures." - -"You flatter my vanity. A man's self is an insidious theme. The -_Apologia pro meâ vitâ_ is rarely to be trusted, the author being -naturally prone to magnify his virtues, and minimize his faults. Always -receive the autobiography _cum grano salis_." - -"Very well," replied Lorelie, with a smile irresistible in its -witchery. "Begin your story, and I will supply the _granum salis_ as -you proceed." - -Vain was it for Idris to protest. She was not to be deterred from her -purpose of hearing something of his personal history; and, accordingly, -after due reflection, he proceeded to relate some of his experiences in -the Græco-Turkish War of '97, in which he had taken a part, in common -with some other Englishmen of adventurous spirit. - -Idris was master of a certain natural eloquence, an eloquence very -effective in the case of an imaginative maiden. At any rate Lorelie -seemed to take a deep interest in his words. Never before had he seen -so attentive a listener. Her face, like water lit by the changing -rays of the sun, reflected all the varying expressions on his own -countenance, as he passed from grave to gay, from scene to scene. - -A significant incident occurred during the telling of these -reminiscences. - -He was relating that on one occasion he had been entrusted by a Greek -commander with the task of conveying a secret dispatch to a village -beyond the enemy's lines. The ordinary route to this place ran -through a mountain-pass, which at that time was carefully guarded by -Bashi-Bazouks. Idris, therefore, determined to scale the face of an -almost perpendicular cliff, and passing, as it were, above the heads of -the watchers, come out in their rear. When he was three-fourths of the -way up the cliff his heart almost leaped into his mouth as he caught -a glimpse of a Bashi-Bazouk, dagger in hand, waiting for him at the -top. The shades of twilight were falling: to descend was impossible: to -go upward was to meet certain death: yet upward he continued to pull -himself, little by little, hoping that by some good fortune he might be -able to outwit the armed watcher. In graphic language he painted his -sensations as none could, save those only who have been in a position. - -At this point Lorelie's interest became intense, even painful. So -vivid was her realization of the scene that she seemed at that very -moment to see Idris before her, clinging feebly to the edge of the -cliff in the dusky gloom, with the savage enemy above him dealing the -death-stroke. She leaned forward in her seat with parted lips: then, -quite unconsciously, and all-forgetful of her sprained ankle, she half -rose with her arm extended as if to ward off the coming blow. - -"O, but you are _here_," she murmured, realizing her mistake. "How -absurd of me!" and, with a heightened colour, she sank back in -confusion. - -"Yes, I am here," replied Idris, his heart leaping with delight at -this proof of her interest in his welfare. "Near the summit of the -cliff was a narrow shelf of rock: on this ledge I lay down and waited, -with my revolver pointing to the night sky. I knew that my gentleman -would peep over again presently to mark my progress. He did. What the -kites left of him you'll find at the foot of the cliff." - -If pleasure at the death of a fellow-mortal be an anti-Christian -feeling, it must be confessed that Lorelie Rivière had little of the -Christian in her at that moment. - -Now that he had once entered upon his personal history, she would not -let him quit it, betraying such interest that Idris almost wondered -whether she had a secret motive in wishing to hear his biography. - -The most romantic part of his career, however, namely, that relating -to the runic ring and the quest for his father, he carefully reserved, -giving instead an account of his travels through Europe, and recalling -many a curious legend from "out-of-the-way" places. - -Long ere Lorelie was sated with these reminiscences the first stars -of night glimmered in the blue air above: and, that nothing might be -wanting to complete a romantic situation, the moon, rising in all -her glory from the depth of ocean, silvered with its radiance the -entrance of the cave. The light passed within bringing into relief the -statuesque pose of Lorelie's figure. It gleamed on her wealth of raven -hair, and hallowed her face with new and mystic beauty, as, with her -cheek pillowed on her hands, she sat attentive to Idris, drinking in -his words as the fabled Oriental bird is said to drink the moonbeams. - -So lovely and interested a listener might well have turned the head of -the frostiest hermit. What wonder, then, that the one thought in Idris' -mind at this moment was:--"O that this might last forever!" - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -IDRIS MEETS A RIVAL - - -Observing a shiver on the part of Lorelie, due to the chilly air, Idris -rose to put into effect a plan that had suddenly occurred to him. -Charming as the situation was to himself, he had no wish to prolong it -at the expense of discomfort to his companion. - -"'Ye gods, I grow a talker.' I do wrong to sit here inactive. The -air is becoming cold. Since no boat has hove in sight it is time we -tried to attract one. Some of this timber, piled upon the rocks at the -entrance of our cave, and set alight, will 'contrive a double debt to -pay'--of giving warmth to yourself, and of serving as a signal-fire to -the coast-guard of Ormsby." - -Collecting a supply of logs and planks, Idris proceeded to form them -into a little pyramid upon the boulders outside the mouth of the -cavern. He applied a lighted match to the pile, and within a few -minutes a glorious bonfire was blazing upon the rock, challenging the -pale light of the moon, and flinging a ruddy glow over the breast of -the heaving waters around. - -"Now, Mademoiselle Rivière, if you will sit in this nook here, you will -be both sheltered from the wind and warmed by the fire." - -Lorelie accepted the suggestion: and, as her ankle was still painful, -she permitted Idris to assist her to the assigned spot, where she sat, -pleased with the cheerful warmth. - -"This blaze ought surely to be seen and understood as a signal of -distress," said Idris. - -As he stared at the distant moonlit cliff behind which the town of -Ormsby lay hidden, he suddenly became aware that Lorelie was speaking. - -"Idris! Idris!" - -He turned quickly with a curious feeling. Surely she was not addressing -him by his Christian name? Let his name sound ever so silvery as it -came from her lips, still, this mode of address in a friendship so -recently formed as theirs, was a familiarity which jarred upon him. - -"Idris! Idris!" she repeated. - -"Yes, _Mademoiselle_ Rivière," he replied, with a cold and significant -emphasis upon the second word. - -But he found her eyes fixed, not upon him, but upon the flames. He -followed the direction of her gaze and beheld a surprising sight. -There, burning in the fire, was a thick piece of planking, and on the -part of it not yet consumed were five black-painted letters, forming in -their arrangement the word:-- - -"I-D-R-I-S!" - -His own name! Yes: there it was, plain to be seen on the plank, the -black characters shining out clearly through the yellow flame. - -Lorelie had simply been murmuring the word as it caught her eyes, -without any intention of addressing him by it. - -How came his name to be inscribed on this piece of timber? If the -materials composing the fire were driftwood picked up from the beach -(and he did not doubt that such was the origin of the timber in the -cave), then this plank was probably a relic of a sunken vessel, the -word _Idris_ forming its name. - -Was there any connection between himself and this lost barque other -than mere identity of name? - -His active mind, eager to give an affirmative to this question, -immediately devised a theory. Captain Rochefort, on flying from -Brittany with Eric Marville, would be compelled by considerations of -safety either to disguise and rename the yacht in which the flight had -been effected, or, what was more probable, dispose of the _Nemesis_ -in some way, and purchase another vessel. That Captain Rochefort had -so acted, naming his new barque after the son of his escaped friend, -became Idris' firm conviction: for, lost to reason in his excitement, -he overlooked the possibility that other yacht-owners might have a -partiality for the same name. - -The plank now burning before his eyes had come from the figure-head of -the yacht in which his father and Captain Rochefort had cruised about, -after disposing of the _Nemesis_. - -What more likely than that, on discovering the meaning of the Norse -runes (a copy of which had been made by Rochefort while the altar-ring -was in his possession), the two friends, in a spirit of adventure, -should steer their yacht's course to Ormsby, the site of the supposed -treasure? And here off this coast their vessel had foundered. - -This conclusion, if correct, would seem almost to justify the idea that -it was impossible to escape from the malign influence of Odin's ring. - -Desire for its possession had led Eric Marville into a mischance that -had doomed him to a prison-life: he had escaped from the convict's -cell, and had wrested the secret from the runic ring, only to meet with -a watery grave in sight of the very treasure-hill that he had come to -explore! - -But, stay! had Eric Marville and Captain Rochefort perished in the -fierce currents of Ormsby Race, or had one, or both, been washed ashore -alive? Was the removal of the Viking's treasure due to one of them, or -to the joint action of the two? - -So occupied was Idris with these thoughts that he had almost forgotten -the presence of Lorelie, but now, on glancing at her, he noticed that -her face wore a grave, not to say startled, expression, obviously due -to the name that had been so strangely presented to her view. The -discovery seemed to disquiet her as much as it disquieted himself. - -Then in a moment it occurred to him that the dead in Saint Oswald's -Churchyard, whose grave she was decking with a marble cross, were men -who had perished in the sinking of this same vessel, _The Idris_. -Lorelie could explain the mystery, if she chose. He resolved to -question her. - -"Mademoiselle Rivière," he began, in an earnest tone, "I believe it is -within your power to throw some light upon a matter that, to me, is -one almost of life and death. Pardon me, if I presume too much on our -very recent friendship. To come to the point, I beg, nay, I entreat of -you, to tell me all you know concerning the vessel whose timbers we see -burning before us, the yacht _Idris_, that went down in Ormsby Race on -the night of the thirteenth of October, 1876." - -Swift surprise stole over Lorelie's face. - -"And why should you think that _I_ know anything of that lost vessel?" - -"Ah! mademoiselle, you are not erecting a costly memorial over the -grave of men of whom you know nothing." - -Lorelie was silent for a few moments, as if reflecting how to answer an -obviously embarrassing question. - -"It is true," she said at last. "I will admit that I _do_ know -something of that lost vessel, and that I have taken a deep interest in -it." - -"The vessel carried some one dear to you?" - -"Really, Mr. Breakspear, you are very curious," she cried, with a flash -of her bright eyes. "Before answering I must know the motive for this -catechism." - -"I have reason to believe," answered Idris, "that there was on board -one, Eric Marville by name." - -"And what," asked Lorelie--and at the chilling fall in her voice -Idris started--"what is Eric Marville to you, that you should take an -interest in his fate?" - -For a moment Idris hesitated, loth to tell the woman whom he loved that -he was the son of a fugitive convict. Then he resolved to be frank, -believing that if she were a true woman she would not despise him for a -misfortune not of his own causing. - -"Eric Marville," he answered humbly, "is my father's name." - -At these words Lorelie Rivière shrank back in the Hermit's Seat, -staring at Idris, her face white, her hand lifted to her side. - -"Your father?" she gasped. "You Eric Marville's son--_you_?" - -"The same, mademoiselle." - -"No, no. It cannot be. You have said that your name is Breakspear." - -"For obvious reasons I have thought proper to assume my mother's maiden -name." - -"Eric Marville's son!" she repeated wildly. "Impossible! I will not -believe it." Her wildness suddenly gave way to an air of disdain, and -she exclaimed: "Why do you seek to impose upon me? Idris Marville was -burned to death at Paris seven years ago." - -"Not so," replied Idris, with a smile, as he proceeded to give his -reasons for permitting himself to be advertised as dead. - -As Lorelie became gradually convinced of his identity a look of dismay -came over her face. She shrank from him, and glanced down upon the sea, -as if tempted to plunge beneath its surface. - -"To think that you, you of all persons," she murmured in a tone of awe, -"should have saved my life!" - -"Then by that fact, mademoiselle, I entreat you to tell me whether my -father perished in that shipwreck. You doubtless know something of his -sad history?" - -"I ought to know," she returned, "seeing that my real name is Lorelie -Rochefort." - -"What do you say?" cried Idris in amazement. "You are the daughter of -Captain Noel Rochefort?" - -She inclined her head in assent. - -"Then we shall be the best of friends, as our fathers were before us." - -"You speak without knowledge," she replied, with a curious dry laugh. - -"Did not Captain Rochefort prove his friendship by aiding my father to -escape?" - -"At my mother's urging: he would not otherwise have moved in the -matter." - -"Why was Madame Rochefort so anxious to see my father free?" - -"You must not ask me that," replied Lorelie quickly, and looking -alarmed the moment afterwards, as if betrayed into a rash statement. - -This was certainly a strange answer, and Idris pondered over it in the -silence that followed. There seemed no other explanation of her words -than that there had existed a guilty love-intrigue between Madame -Rochefort and Eric Marville. Was it possible that Lorelie herself was -the offspring of----? With a shiver he put the suspicion aside. No: he -would not think _that_! - -"Is Captain Rochefort still living?" - -"It is extremely unlikely." - -"He went down with the yacht _Idris_?" - -"In all probability." - -"He was not among the bodies washed ashore?" - -"They were bruised and swollen beyond recognition." - -"Was my father on board the yacht the night it sank?" - -"So far as I have been able to gather he was not." - -"Not?" said Idris, in a tone of joy. "Then he may still be living. May -I ask, mademoiselle, how you have learned this?" - -"From my father's last letter to my mother, with whom he kept up a -correspondence during his cruise. The letter is dated 'The yacht -_Idris_. In Ormsby Roads, October 13th, 1876. 7 P. M.,' and -the postscript is something to this effect, 'Marville is going ashore, -leaving me aboard. He will not return till the morrow. I am despatching -this letter to the post by the sailor who rows Marville ashore.' Those -are the last words my mother received. That same night, four hours -after the letter was written, the _Idris_ went down." - -"And you cannot tell me whether my father is living to-day?" - -"I know nothing more of Eric Marville since the night of the wreck." - -"You have preserved all your father's letters?" - -"Naturally." - -Idris here ventured on a very bold request. - -"Would it be asking too much to let me see this correspondence, or at -least, some part of it?" - -"Not if you were to give me a diamond for each word it contained," she -said firmly. - -"At least, mademoiselle," he continued more humbly, "you will give me -the purport of those passages that relate to my father?" - -"That would be to compromise myself." - -"Whatever secrets those letters contain shall be respected by me." - -"Not so," said Lorelie sadly. "Mr. Breakspear, Idris Marville, or -whatever name you will, I believe you to be a man of honour----" - -"Then why not trust me?" - -"Because you would consider yourself justified in breaking your pledge -of secrecy. I dare not trust you. No oath could be binding in such a -case as this. You would proclaim aloud to the world the contents of -those letters." - -In spite of her words, Idris, with justifiable curiosity, continued to -press her with questions relative to his father's movements after the -flight from Quilaix, but to all his interrogations Lorelie remained -coldly mute. - -"And you will tell me nothing more than you have told?" he said at last. - -His sorrowful tone seemed to touch her to the quick. The icy expression -faded from her face and gave way to one of warmth and tenderness. Her -eyes became luminous with tears, but, as if desirous of resisting his -pleading, she averted her head and hid her face in her hands. - -"Do not question me further," she entreated. "Not to answer is painful, -but to answer would be more painful still. O, why did you reveal -your true name? I shall never be happy again. If I had but known you -twelve months ago, all would have been well, but now--now it is too -late. In revealing what you wish, nay, what you ought to know, I -should be injuring the interests of, not myself, for that would matter -little, but the interests of others. You do not understand--how should -you?--but some day you will learn my meaning, and then--and then----" -her voice faltered, "how the world will despise me! you more than all -others. Mr. Breakspear, if you knew my real character you would have -left me lying on the sand to be overwhelmed by the tide. I would that -you had!" - -Though Idris knew not what meaning to affix to this speech, it did not -abate in one degree his love for her: nay, her very air of humiliation, -plaintive and touching, served only to enhance her attractiveness. When -he recalled the heroic look upon her face in the presence of death, and -the clasping of her hands in prayer upon her deliverance, he could not -bring himself to think ill of her. Her mysterious self-accusations must -be the result of some delusion: or, if something _did_ attach to her -that the world would call guilt, he did not doubt that justification -would be found for it. - -"Mademoiselle," he replied, with a grave smile, "you seem to regard -me in the light of an enemy, when my chief desire is to occupy a high -place in your friendship." He would have said "heart" had he dared. -"Since the subject of the yacht is painful to you, I will not refer to -it again in your presence." - -"Then my reticence will not make an enemy of you?" asked Lorelie, -raising her beautiful eyes with a yearning in them that moved him -strangely. - -"Certainly not, mademoiselle. Let me know that you do not despise me on -account of my father's guilt, or supposed guilt, and I am content." - -"Despise you? Oh, no! How can you say that? Mr. Breakspear," she -continued, with a faltering voice, "if--if there be one circumstance -more than another that enlists my sympathies in your behalf, it -is--the--the event of which you speak." - -The pitying look in her eyes caused Idris' blood to course like liquid -fire through his veins. Had she been the guiltiest woman living that -glance would have palliated all and have made him her slave forever. - -There is no knowing what he might have said or done at this moment had -he not been checked by a sudden exclamation from her. Looking in the -direction indicated by her he saw a boat rowed by seven of the Ormsby -fishermen coming over the waves towards them in gallant style. - -"Our imprisonment is drawing to an end," said Idris, adding to himself, -"the more's the pity." - -The sight of the approaching boat seemed to put an end to Lorelie's -emotion. She began to regain something of her former sweet self. - -By her own unaided efforts she rose to her feet, and leaning against -the rock, waved her handkerchief as an encouragement to the rowers. A -cheer broke from the men as soon as they recognized her; for, by reason -of her liberality to the poor of Ormsby, Mademoiselle Rivière had -become, at least among the lower orders of the town, a favourite second -only to Beatrice Ravengar herself. - -Ere long the boat's side grated against the rock, and Lorelie, assisted -by Idris on the one hand, and by a gallant fisherman on the other, was -lifted down from point to point, and finally lodged in the bow of the -rocking boat, Idris taking his seat beside her. - -The still-flaming timbers of the fire having been extinguished by the -easy process of tossing them into the sea, the men pushed off, and the -Hermit's Cave rapidly receded from view. - -In answer to the questioning of her rescuers Lorelie gave an account of -the circumstances which had led to the enforced captivity of herself -and Idris, adding:-- - -"We owe you something more substantial than thanks for responding so -quickly to our fire-signal." - -"Lord bless you!" responded one of the crew gallantly, "to rescue such -a bonny bird we would row fifty miles." - -They created quite a sensation as they drew near the beach of Ormsby, -where a miscellaneous crowd was assembled; for the news had been spread -abroad by Lorelie's frightened maid that her mistress had been missing -since the morning, and, accordingly, it had been conjectured that the -strange light visible at the foot of the distant cliff might have -some connection with her disappearance. And when it was seen that the -approaching boat contained the missing lady there arose an outburst of -cheering and a waving of hats, that drew the colour to her hitherto -pale cheek. - -Among the first to meet the boat at the water's edge was Godfrey; and -on learning that Lorelie had hurt her foot, nothing less would satisfy -him than an immediate inspection of her ankle. - -"The case may be more serious than you think it," said he. - -So Lorelie, escorted by Idris and Godfrey, repaired, under smiling -protest, to the parlour of a cottage fronting the beach, where, after -due examination, the surgeon pronounced the injury to be nothing more -serious than a sprain. - -"Still, you must not set your foot to the ground just yet," he added. -"We will procure a carriage to take you home." - -Scarcely had he said this when the rattle of wheels was heard outside. -A vehicle of some sort had drawn up in front of the cottage. A minute -afterwards the parlour door opened giving entrance to Viscount Walden. - -His acknowledgment of the surgeon was limited to, "Ah! Godfrey:" of -Idris he took no notice at all. Walking up to Lorelie he smiled in a -manner which showed that they were no strangers to each other, and -Godfrey, recalling the viscount's utterances in the crypt of Ravenhall, -"I hope Lorelie will be satisfied," looked on at their meeting with -considerable interest, wondering whether there really were some guilty -secret between them. - -"Mademoiselle Rivière, I am delighted to meet you in England," said -Ivar. "Passing along the road outside and observing the crowd in front -of this cottage I stopped my carriage to ascertain the cause. Imagine -my surprise on learning that _you_ were within. Welcome to Ormsby! You -find our climate a little trying, I expect, after the sunny air and the -blue skies of the Riviera? You have sprained your ankle, I understand, -and find a difficulty in walking. If you desire a carriage to convey -you home, mine is at your service." - -Ivar's proposal to carry off Lorelie in his own carriage roused all -Idris' jealousy, of which he had the ordinary mortal's share. It was -not very agreeable to hear Lorelie assenting, and to observe that she -smiled upon Ivar as pleasantly as she had smiled upon himself. - -With a motion of her hand she directed the viscount's attention to -Idris. - -"Lord Walden, Mr.----" - -"Breakspear," interposed Idris quickly, fearing lest she should -inadvertently pronounce the name of Marville. - -Lorelie gave him a sympathetic glance, which assured him that his -secret was quite safe in her keeping. - -"Lord Walden," she continued, "Mr. Breakspear, a gentleman to whom I -owe my life." - -In some surprise Ivar turned to survey the saviour of Mademoiselle -Rivière, and beheld a man of about thirty years, with fine dark eyes -and an athletic figure--a man evidently of good birth; his countenance -expressive of a spirit that showed if he should set his mind upon -accomplishing an object, say of winning a woman's love, he would -succeed, or make it go extremely ill with those who endeavoured to -thwart him: and, noting all this, Ivar, who was of a mean nature, took -secret umbrage. - -Idris was about to offer his hand, but observing that the viscount was -stiffly bowing with his hands behind him, he thought he could not do -better than imitate the other's example. - -For a moment the two men eyed each other, both apparently animated by a -spirit of defiance, the cause of which was patent enough to Godfrey in -the person of the charming woman sitting between them. - -Idris, mindful of the fact that he was the son of an escaped convict, -while Ivar was the descendant of a line of belted earls, felt bitterly -the contrast between their respective positions. - -"How this fellow would sneer, if he knew the truth!" was his thought. - -"Lord save us!" the woman, who owned the cottage, whispered to Godfrey. -"How like they are! The same proud face upon each!" - -The surgeon glanced from one to the other, and was compelled to admit -that there certainly _was_ a resemblance in features between the two -men, a resemblance which would have been the stronger, had not Idris -been dark, and Ivar fair. - -While Lorelie gave a brief account of her rescue, Ivar listened with -impatience, evidently of opinion that Fortune, while permitting Idris -to save Mademoiselle Rivière, might at least have had the good sense to -drown him afterwards. - -"At the next Parish Council," said Lorelie to Godfrey, "you must call -attention to the 'Stairs of David.'" - -"The ladder ought certainly to be seen to," said Idris, "but for my -part, mademoiselle," he added, bowing to Lorelie, "I shall never regret -the instability of that structure." - -Ivar, who had refrained from speech both during Lorelie's story and at -its close, now offered his arm to help her to the carriage. A shade of -vexation passed over her face at the viscount's obvious indifference to -Idris' services on her behalf. - -"My ankle is still weak," she said, turning to Idris. "Mr. Breakspear, -may I ask for your help, too?" - -Idris responded with a cheerfulness that became the more cheerful as he -noticed Ivar's scowl. - -Thus escorted Lorelie passed into the moonlit air without, and reached -the brougham. Idris held the door while she stepped in. The viscount -followed, shutting the door with a loud slam, that said as plainly as -words, "No more shall enter here." - -Lorelie looked more vexed than ever at this discourtesy towards Godfrey -and Idris: but as the carriage was not hers it was out of her power to -offer them a seat. - -However, as if desirous of sweetening the parting, she extended her -little hand through the carriage-window, accompanying her action with a -gracious smile. - -"Good-night, Mr. Breakspear," she murmured, softly. "I shall never -forget the debt I owe you." - -"Drive on," cried Ivar, brusquely, to the coachman. "The Cedars, North -Road." - -The horses dashed off, and as the brougham turned the corner of the -road, Idris caught a glimpse of Lorelie, bending forward at the -carriage-window, with her face turned in his direction. - -He lifted his hat, and the next moment she was lost to view. - -"Idris," said Godfrey, "you love that young lady." - -"And you must have a heart of stone not to love her, too." - -"Humph! it would be rather awkward if all men were to desire the same -woman. Isn't one rival enough for you?" - -Truth to tell, Idris had been much disquieted by the readiness with -which Lorelie had surrendered herself to the will of Viscount Walden. -It seemed almost as if some secret understanding existed between them. -Godfrey, though he refrained from saying so, had no doubt whatever on -the point. - -"All things being equal," he continued, "I believe the lady would -favour you: but, you see, a prospective coronet is a very powerful -attraction, and I fear the coronet will gain the day." - -Idris repudiated this forecast, vigorously anathematizing the name of -Viscount Walden, after which his thoughts turned to a theme, almost -equal in interest to his love for Lorelie, namely, his father's fate. - -"He was not on the yacht when it sank, so Mademoiselle Rivière -declares: then what became of him? I did right to come to Ormsby, it -seems, since it was in this neighbourhood that he was last heard of. -But, alas! that was twenty-two years ago. Is he living to-day, and -shall I ever find him?" - - - - -CHAPTER X - -A LITTLE PIECE OF STEEL - - -The clock was striking the hour of ten at night as Beatrice Ravengar -rose to put away the embroidery with which she had been occupied. - -Save for the companionship of her faithful St. Bernard she was alone. -Godfrey was out visiting his patients. Idris had been absent since -noon, and Beatrice wondered what had become of him, little thinking -that he was passing his time in a moonlit cave, _tête-à-tête_ with -Mademoiselle Rivière. The page-boy, who was accustomed to sleep at his -own home, had taken his departure: and as for the housemaid, well, -every one knows that when housemaids promise to be home punctually by -nine P. M., they mean any time up to eleven, and Beatrice's -little domestic was no exception to this rule. - -Methodical in all her ways Beatrice was in the habit of mapping out -beforehand a certain amount of work to be done during the day. Her -self-allotted tasks being now completed she was ready for bed, but -could not think of retiring before the return of the absentees. - -With a little yawn she wondered what she should do to fill up the gap -of time, and seeing a book lying upon the table, one that Idris had -been reading earlier in the day, she took it up and found it to be a -novel. - -Beatrice as a rule avoided fiction, but on the present occasion she -felt herself unequal to anything but the lightest kind of literary -confectionery, and, accordingly, settling herself comfortably in her -armchair, she began to read the novel, which bore the title of "_The -Fair Orientalist_." It was of the nightmare order, and dealt with the -doings of an Eastern lady, gifted with occult powers. - -After the first chapter Beatrice glanced down to make sure that the -faithful Leo was lying at her feet: when reading a story of the -supernatural at night it is good to have a companion with us, though -that companion be but a dog. - -Having finished the second chapter she threw a glance at the windows, -and was glad to observe that the blinds were drawn, since at night-time -panes of glass are sometimes apt to reflect the gaslight in such a way -as to create the impression that there are eyes on the outside watching -us. - -At the end of the third chapter Beatrice had become positively alarmed -at the clairvoyance and occult powers ascribed to the Oriental lady: -and yet, so fascinated was she by the story that, despite her growing -fears, she found it impossible to lay down the book. - -Hark! what was that? - -A sound, coming apparently from the upper storey, echoed through -the lonely house. With a beating heart Beatrice ceased reading, and -listened. The sound was repeated, and she smiled at her fears. The -latticed window at the head of the staircase was open, and flapping -idly on its hinges. That was all! - -This thought, however, was quickly followed by another that revived her -uneasiness. Since the casement had been ajar all the evening why had it -not flapped before? - -"The wind must be rising," thought Beatrice: and with this reasonable -explanation she resumed her reading. - -O, that window! - -It persisted in flapping to and fro at intervals, the irregularity of -which was the most annoying part of the matter. - -Sometimes the sound was so faint as to be scarcely audible: then, -after a lapse of silence so long as to promise that the torment had -altogether ceased, the casement would give a rattle louder than ever, -and more startling by contrast with the previous stillness. A little -more force on the part of the wind would result in the shattering of -those diamond panes. - -"I must go up and shut it!" - -Sensible resolve! But it was not carried out. The incident, trifling -though it was, combined with the effect of the novel, had reduced -her to a state of nervousness so great that she durst not ascend the -staircase to close the window. Despising herself for her cowardice she -remained in her armchair, neglecting the only effectual way of ending -the annoyance. - -She glanced again at the dog, and derived some assurance from his quiet -air. Though wideawake he did not display any signs of alarm. - -"One advantage brute creatures have over the human," thought she. -"_They_ never frighten themselves with ghostly fears." - -She again fixed her eyes upon the book, endeavouring to ignore the real -terror by a forced attention to an imaginary one, a literary homæopathy -that was scarcely likely to be successful. - -One of the powers possessed by the Fair Orientalist was that of enduing -inanimate objects with her own magnetism by virtue of which they became -gifted for the time being with sentience and motion. - -The fancy now seized Beatrice, so deeply had she fallen under the spell -of the weird romance, that the restless casement above was moved by -similar means, and that its flapping was designed to call her attention -to--she knew not what. A strange idea! But it grew upon her, and -increased till it filled her mind to the exclusion of everything else. -The book, neglected, slid from her knees, and she sat listening to the -swinging of the casement. And as it is possible to tell the mood of a -musician by the notes he plays, so Beatrice fancied she could detect a -meaning in each variation of sound. - -First, there was a sharp slam intended primarily to arrest attention, -like the ting-ting of the telegraph operator: next, a low plaintive -swing beseeching her to ascend the stairs and come to the rescue, -followed by a remonstratory flap censuring her for delaying. Then -ensued a slow solemn sound suggestive of the gravity of the situation: -finally, there came a loud rattle that echoed through the house as if -threatening penalties for her negligence. - -The geologist will read history in a cliff: Beatrice read a whole -tragedy in the varying tones of that casement. - -And now, a mysterious influence, emanating from the latticed window, -seemed to steal silently down the staircase like a ghost, and entering -the apartment where she sat and enwrapping her with an unseen pall of -horror, whispered a thought that swept all the warmth from her body and -left her icy-cold. - -_The Viking's skull!_ - -At the head of the staircase, on the ledge of the embrasured window, -was the grim memorial, taken at midnight from the sepulchral mound. -Beatrice's mind became impressed with the belief that the casement -was flapping in sympathy with the skull, was its mouthpiece, so to -speak--nay more, that the dread relic itself was moaning to be taken -back to its ancient resting-place. Her quickening fancy drew a picture -of the skull, whispering, nodding, grinning, its hollow orbs illumined -with blue, phosphorescent light. - -Gazing fearfully at the door she saw that it was open. She must close -it ere the horrid object should come gliding down the staircase into -the room. - -Summoning up her small amount of remaining courage Beatrice rose, and -with timid, staccato steps, approached the door, attended by Leo. Mute -as a statue she stood in the attitude of listening, her fingers on the -door-handle. - -Was it the voice of the breeze sighing through the half-opened -casement, or was it the skull whispering and chuckling with ghostly -glee? She had but to step forward two paces to be within the corridor, -and by looking up the staircase would see the skull at its head. - -But this was more than she durst do. To her dismay Leo had walked out -of the room, and refused to return. She could not shut the door upon -the dog: in her present state of mind his presence was an absolute -necessity, and yet, to venture out into the passage to bring him back, -and by so doing come within sight of the skull, was a feat beyond her -courage. - -The corridor-lamp had not been lighted. The glory of the full moon -shone on the staircase window at such an angle that the outline of the -casement was projected upon the floor of the passage directly within -view of the door at which she was standing. She could not avoid seeing -the oblong patch of spectral white. But that shadow in the centre like -a human head, black and still as if nailed to the flooring! It was the -silhouette of the skull! - -Trembling, she averted her eyes from the shadow, and fortunately at -that moment Leo, having decided that the room was more comfortable than -the corridor, reentered the apartment, and Beatrice instantly closed -the door and turned the key, feeling more at ease now that an inch of -oak interposed between herself and the object at the stair head. - -But now came another terror! - -Leo had taken his place on the hearth-rug where he remained quiet for -a few minutes. Then, suddenly, he began to grow restive. Giving a low -growl he started to his feet, and after looking about on all sides -began to walk round the room, sniffing suspiciously at the floor, as if -he expected danger from the cellar below rather than from the staircase -above. - -His investigations concluded, the poor brute sat down on his haunches, -and lifting up his head gave utterance to one long and plaintive howl. -And if ever dog uttered prophecy Leo uttered it at that moment, and the -tenor of his prediction was that some dire peril was at hand. - -Beatrice, who had followed the animal from one part of the room to -another, repeating "Leo, Leo, what's the matter?" as if he were capable -of speech, knelt by his side and found him quivering in every limb, his -hair bristling as if with fear. - -Hark! - -A gust of wind, more forcible than any that had preceded it, slammed -the staircase window with a loud bang, shivering its diamond panes: -and--more alarming still!--this accident was accompanied by a sound -like the fall of some light object. - -Beatrice doubted not for a moment that the skull had dropped from the -ledge and was now coming down the staircase. - -Nor did she err. A second bump told her that the thing had rolled over -one stair. A third fall ensued, and then a fourth. These sounds did not -follow instantaneously one upon another, but there was between each a -distinct pause, suggestive of the idea that the skull was endowed with -a volition and a motion of its own: as if, in fact, it were choosing -its way, and descending at leisure. - -Awaiting the issue Beatrice sat, the very picture of terror, her hands -clasped, her dilated eyes riveted on the door of the apartment. It -seemed many minutes since the skull had begun its descent, though, -perhaps, fifteen seconds had scarcely elapsed. Finally, the lowest -stair was reached, and the skull, pitching forward, rolled up to the -door of the apartment, as if seeking admittance. - -At its dread knock the walls and floor of the room seemed to -tremble. The lights in the gasalier went out, leaving the chamber in -semi-darkness. The dying embers of the fire, flickering strangely and -unsteadily, caused weird shapes to spring up from floor to ceiling. - -At the same time a vibratory motion was communicated to Beatrice's -person. She found herself oscillating to and fro, unable to check -herself. A mysterious power grasped her ankles with unseen fingers and -strove to elevate her in air. - -Fully believing that her last hour had come Beatrice gave one long -pealing cry, in which the terrified yelp of the dog mingled. She was -shot violently forward: a noise like the rattle produced by a thousand -falling plates rang in her ears, and tumbling headlong to the carpet -she lost all consciousness. - - * * * * * * - -When Beatrice next opened her eyes she found herself lying on the sofa -with three persons standing beside her: Godfrey was sprinkling her -face and throat with cold water: the housemaid was applying a bottle -of strong salts to her nostrils: and Idris was holding a candle, the -feeble light of which he strove to steady by shielding it with his -hand. The windows and door were wide open, and the cool night air was -blowing through the room, laden with a faint odour of escaped gas. - -Beatrice gave a feeble smile of recognition, and then gazed vacantly -around the apartment, unable at first to recall what had preceded the -present state of affairs. - -The room presented a scene of confusion. All the pictures hung awry: -the ornaments of the mantel had fallen, and lay, some shattered to -pieces, within the fireplace: fragments of one of the gasalier globes -starred the carpet: the doors of the bookcase were open, and many of -the volumes had been projected from their shelves to the floor. On the -table was the Viking's skull, the cause, in some mysterious way, of all -this disorder; at least, such was Beatrice's opinion. - -"I have been horribly frightened!" she said, as soon as she had -recovered the use of speech. - -"And well you might be!" replied Idris. "Godfrey and I had just reached -the door, when the house shook to its foundations, and out went all the -lights. By heaven! I thought the place was coming down. We have had an -earthquake shock." - -But the imaginative mind of Beatrice, still under the spell of -"_The Fair Orientalist_," was not prepared to accept this rational -explanation. - -"Earthquakes don't happen in England," she declared. - -"Slight shocks occasionally occur here," said Idris, "and the -present one is a case in point. Why," he added, observing Beatrice's -dissentient shake of her head, "what else could it have been?" - -"I cannot say," she answered, shivering, and glancing at the Viking's -skull. "But this much I know, that long before the house shook and the -gas went out, I was frightened by strange sounds coming from the head -of the staircase where the skull was, and so--and so----" - -And here Beatrice paused, not knowing how to express to others that -which was not very clear to herself. - -"And so you began to think that the skull was talking and threatening -you with mystic oracles? Fie, Trixie," said her brother, reprovingly. -"I did not think you could be so foolish." - -But perceiving that it would be useless at this juncture to try to -reason her out of her belief, such process being best reserved for -the sober light of morning, Godfrey turned to give some orders to the -housemaid. - -"Ha!" exclaimed Idris, picking up the novel from the floor, "so -you have been reading this? Then I don't wonder that you have been -frightened. '_The Fair Orientalist_' is not a book to be read at night -in a lonely house." - -"I will not deny that the book frightened me, but what was it that -frightened Leo? _He_ cannot read ghost-stories, and yet he howled -piteously." - -"Probably with that prevision instinctive in the brute race he -discerned the coming of this catastrophe." - -Beatrice, having now recovered herself, proposed a tour of the house -with a view of ascertaining how much damage had been done. - -The walls did not exhibit any cracks or fissures, and apparently were -as sound as before, but on the floor of every room proofs of the recent -earth-tremor were evident in the shape of fallen articles. - -Breakage was especially triumphant in the kitchen. - -"Ah me!" sighed Beatrice, sorrowfully. "Good-bye to my new tea-service! -And my pretty majolica bread-plate gone, too! Nothing will convince -me that this is not the work of the Viking. When he was alive I have -no doubt that, being a heathen, he took a pleasure in slaying good -Christian folk: and now that he is dead he shows his malignity by -destroying their crockery-ware. A noble Viking, one would think, should -be above such meanness." - -On returning to the sitting-room Idris, for the enlightenment of -Beatrice, began to relate his adventure with Mademoiselle Rivière; and, -as Beatrice listened, she became strangely disquieted by the incident. -Why should this be? - -But when Idris, in the course of his story, dwelt on the beauty of -Lorelie, and above all on the heroic light of her eyes when she bade -him leave her to save himself, Beatrice readily discerned by the -warmth of his tone how matters stood with him, and realizing this, -her agitation increased. Surprised, frightened, trembling, she found -herself borne along on the wild wave of her emotion to the certain -knowledge that her feelings towards Idris were not those of friendship -simply, but of love! - -And perceiving how deeply enthralled he was by the witchery of Lorelie -Rivière her mind became tortured with exquisite pain. - -Fearing that Idris and Godfrey might observe her emotion and divine -its cause, she seized a favourable moment to steal from the apartment, -without so little as a "Good-night," lest her voice should betray her. - -And on attaining her dainty bedroom she flung herself upon the bed and -gave way to emotion, despising herself as foolish, and yet unable to -check her tears. - -"If he but knew her true character!" she murmured: "If he but knew! But -it is not for me to tell him. He will--he must learn it in time. And -then--and then--perhaps--it may be--that----" - -But Beatrice put this hope from her as too delightful ever to be -realized. - -"Now to examine my noble Viking," said Idris, taking up the skull from -the table. "Let us see whether he has suffered any injury in his roll -down-stairs.--Hul-lo!" - -Shaking the skull as he spoke, his attention was arrested by a faint -rattle within it, a sound that he had not heard in his previous -handlings of the relic. - -"Listen, Godfrey!" he cried in a curious tone of voice, and shaking the -skull again. "What is this inside?" - -He stopped the motion to examine the skull more carefully. Strange that -till this moment he had not noticed that the occipital bone was pierced -by a tiny hole of circular shape! - -"Do you see this, Godfrey?" he said, pointing out the orifice. "This -could have been caused only by a sharp-pointed instrument. The thing -rattling within must be a fragment of some weapon." - -He gave the skull another shake, when, from the vertebral orifice there -dropped a piece of rusty steel about two inches in length, slender, -rounded, and tapering to a point. - -"No one could live with a thing like this in his head," said Idris. "So -it is clear that we have here a fragment of the identical weapon that -gave old Orm his _coup-de-grâce_." - -A tiny piece of steel publicly exposed, say in a shop-window, will -attract little, if any notice: but let it be known that the said steel -is the instrument with which a murder has been wrought, and a whole -city will come trooping forth to view: and fancy prices will be offered -for it by connoisseurs of the gruesome. - -Deep, therefore, was the interest with which the two friends viewed -their latest discovery. - -"Then this cannot be the skull of Orm the Viking," remarked Godfrey, -after a thoughtful pause, "if the tapestry we brought away from the -tomb is to be received as an authority, since that represents him as -slain by an arrow piercing his breast." - -This contradiction between the evidence presented by the skull and that -presented by the tapestry, perplexed Idris in no small degree. Having -conceived the somewhat pleasing notion that he was the possessor of -the skull of Orm the Golden, he was loth to relinquish his belief, and -prepared to argue the point. - -"Artists, whether in needlework or in oils, are not always to be -accepted as historic authorities. I have no doubt _suppressio veri_ was -practised as much in the Viking age as in our own. If Orm died with a -wound in the occiput, what does that seem to show? That he must have -turned his back on his foes in defiance of the canons of Norse bravery. -Do you think that the weavers of the tapestry would let posterity know -that Orm had turned coward? No! therefore they make him die with an -arrow in his breast, facing the foe, bold to the last. The tumulus in -Ravensdale is certainly Orm's tomb: the name Ormfell and the tapestry -prove it, and hence the bones it contains must be those of Orm." - -"Hum! I'm not convinced," replied Godfrey. "You believe this steel to -be the fragment of a battle-weapon: of what kind of weapon? It is too -slender to have formed part of a sword or a dagger: too finely-pointed -to have been the barb of a lance or an arrow." - -"It may be a spike from that sort of mace which the Vikings in their -playful way were wont to call their 'Morning Star.' This is perhaps a -stellar ray." - -"Rather fragile for the spike of a mace, isn't it?" - -"True. I confess I am as much puzzled as yourself to name the weapon of -which this once formed part." - -For a long time Idris continued to puzzle over the question, polishing -the steel fragment till it gleamed with a silvery-azure light. He -suggested its connection with all kinds of impossible weapons, but -could come to no satisfactory conclusion. Then, vexed by Godfrey's -scepticism, he said:-- - -"Well, old wiseacre, if this be not Orm's skull, tell me whose it is?" - -"Impossible to say--at present. My opinion is that it is not an -ancient skull at all, but a modern one. The future will perhaps show -whether I am right. As 'there's a Divinity that shapes' human affairs, -it may be that the earthquake of to-night has been sent for a purpose. -It has had the effect of loosening the fragment of steel hitherto -immovably fixed in the cavity of the skull. You will, perhaps, consider -me fanciful, Idris, but I have a presentiment that we are on the -threshold of a startling discovery to which this piece of steel forms a -clue." - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -THE LEGEND OF THE RUNIC RING - - -On the morning after his adventure on the seashore Idris went out with -the intention of calling upon Mademoiselle Rivière: and that he might -not lack reasonable pretext for his visit, he took with him the book -which she had asked him to return. Apart altogether from the charm -of her beauty Lorelie interested him, both as being the daughter of -Captain Rochefort, and likewise as the depositary of some strange -secret relating to his father's history. Though earnestly pressed by -Idris she had firmly declined to give any account of Eric Marville -from the time of his escape to the sinking of the yacht in Ormsby -Race. It was difficult to assign a motive for her refusal, but Idris -did not doubt that in course of time he would be able to overcome her -reticence: and therefore, if only on this account, Lorelie Rivière was -a person whose friendship it behoved him to cultivate. - -The way to her villa, The Cedars, took him past Saint Oswald's Church, -and moved by a sudden impulse, he turned aside to enter the edifice, -which in more than one sense was hallowed ground to him, inasmuch as it -was here that he had first met with Lorelie. - -Surely Eros was directing his steps! For, scarcely had he passed within -the porch of the Ravengar Chantry when his ear caught the soft rustle -of silk, and Mademoiselle Rivière herself was standing before him. She -had entered by another door, and the basket of flowers hanging from her -arm seemed to indicate that her object in visiting the church was to -deck its altar. Dressed in a graceful costume of black and silver that -harmonized exquisitely with her delicate complexion she looked more -beautiful and witching than ever in Idris' eyes, as with a bright smile -she extended her hand. - -"And your sprained ankle?" he asked, when their first greetings were -over. - -"Is not my presence here a satisfactory answer to that question?" she -smiled. - -"May I ask for a flower in exchange, mademoiselle?" said Idris, as he -returned the book to her. - -"Here is variety to choose from. Let me learn your favourite." - -She held out the basket for Idris to make his choice. - -"You are taking nothing but forget-me-nots," she cried. - -"I am in a parabolical mood, you see. The name of this flower expresses -what my lips would say." - -"And thereby you accuse me of ingratitude." - -"How so?" - -"By suggesting the possibility of my forgetting one who has saved my -life," replied Lorelie, the colour stealing over her cheek. She raised -her eyes to his with an expression in them that thrilled him, and -continued, "Shall I tell you the dream I had last night? I thought -I was still lying on those sands where I fell, unable to move. The -rising tide came on and rippled around me, striking a chill through my -clothing. At last the water was so high that it flowed over my face, -filling my mouth and nostrils. I fought with it, but it ascended higher -and ever higher above me, till I was deep down below the surface. - -"And the curious part of it all was that I still lived. I lay there as -in a trance, motionless, staring upwards. I could see the air-bubbles -of my breath ascending to the surface. The moon with tremulous -motion shone through the glassy water, looking--oh! ever so far away. -The sea-weed drifted around and clung to my cheek and hair. Curious -sea-monsters came and looked at me, then went away again: shell-fish -crawled over me, and all night long the restless water flowed over my -face and plashed in and out of my mouth. Its faint murmur rings in my -ears still. In the morning I awoke and found it a dream. Then I said to -myself, 'This is what would have happened if--if no one had been near -to aid me.'" - -"It is past now," replied Idris, observing her shiver. "Don't think any -more about it." - -"The peril is past, but the memory of it remains. Ah, that dream! If -it should occur again to-night I shall begin to be like Richard III, -and tremble at the thought of sleep. Shall I put those flowers in your -coat, Mr. Breakspear? You seem to find it a difficulty." - -Idris readily accepted her proffered aid. - -"Forget-me-not," she murmured, fastening the nosegay to his -button-hole; and Idris wondered whether the words were addressed to -him, or whether she was simply repeating the name of the flower: the -latter it seemed by her next remark. "Why should our French _myosotis_ -be called in English, 'Forget-me-not'? Can you tell me the origin of -the name?" - -Idris could, and did: relating the somewhat apocryphal story of the -youth, who, in wading to the opposite bank of a river with a view of -procuring some flowers for his sweetheart, was swept off by the current -and drowned, but not before he had had time to fling the flowers at her -feet with the parting cry of "Forget-me-not!" - -"The moral of which is," added Idris, "learn to swim." - -"You are spoiling a pretty story by your cynicism," said Lorelie. "His -love was all the greater if he could not swim." - -She turned to arrange her flowers upon the altar of the Ravengar -Chantry. Idris was watching her when his eye was caught by a shadow -outlined on the stone pavement. The sun was shining through the window -above the altar, and casting at his feet glowing splashes of various -hues. For a few seconds he continued to stare, doubtful whether he saw -aright, and then, slowly raising his gaze, he followed the slanting -shaft of coloured light upward from the pavement till his eyes rested -upon the stained window. - -The central pane was blazoned with the armorial device of the -Ravengars. The shield, supported on each side by a raven, in canting -allusion to the family name, was charged in the centre with a silver -circlet, a thin purple line forming the perimeter. - -_The runic ring!_ - -Yes: there was its facsimile gleaming from the coloured glass, and -seeming in the morning sunlight to sparkle with a new and mysterious -significance. That this argent circle was intended to represent the -Norse altar-ring Idris had not the shadow of a doubt: and for a moment -he felt resentment both against Beatrice and Godfrey: for, familiar as -they must be with this coat of arms--Beatrice herself, as a Ravengar, -being entitled to assume it--they had made no allusion to it when -he was telling them the story of the runic ring. It was singular, -too, that he himself should have failed to notice this blazon in his -previous visit to this chantry. - -What was the reason for its figuring in the Ravengar shield? - -Curious stories are often latent within armorial devices, as students -of heraldry can testify. Was it possible that this ring had been -adopted by the Ravengars of a past generation because it had been in -some way connected with their history? - -"Mademoiselle Rivière," said Idris, impulsively, thinking that she -might be able to throw some light upon the matter, "can you tell -me whether the Ravengars of past times had any historic reason for -decorating their armorial shield with a silver ring?" - -"There is an interesting legend to account for it," she said after -a moment's hesitation, "which you will find in a curious old book -entitled, '_Traditions of the House of Ravengar_.'" - -"You know the story, then? May I not learn it from you rather than from -the book?" - -"It is a story that will take a long time in the telling." - -This, in Idris' opinion, was an excellent reason for hearing it. -Lorelie found herself unable to resist his persuasive manner: so, -sitting down, she proceeded to tell the story with a detail that showed -how it had caught her own imagination. - -In the ninth century--so ran the legend--there lived a Norse sea-king, -who, either from the terror inspired by his arms, or from the gilt -figure on the prow of his galley, was called Draco, or "The Dragon." -From the great wealth acquired in his various water-expeditions he -gained the additional name of "The Golden." - -Like many other heroes of the north this Draco claimed descent from -Odin, and among his hereditaments nothing was more prized by him than -the silver altar-ring used in the religious ceremonies of his clan, -since it was said to have belonged originally to his divine ancestor. - -Draco lived at the time when the Norsemen were sailing by thousands -from their own land in order to gain by the sword new and fairer homes -in Britain. He, too, determined to have a share in the territorial -spoil, and accordingly, equipping his dragon-keels, and gathering his -warcarls around him, he sailed off over the seas. - -On arriving within sight of the Northumbrian coast he had recourse to -the gods for fixing the precise point of his disembarkation: he let -fly two ravens consecrated to Odin, and following in their wake landed -where they had alighted. - -He quickly put to the rout those Northumbrians who attempted to oppose -him, and proceeded to confirm his victory by building a fortress on the -site of the existing Ravenhall. Sallying forth from this place he would -plunder the neighbouring monasteries, or, putting out to sea, attack -the merchant vessels that passed his shores, thus becoming possessed in -course of time, of a vast quantity of treasure in the shape of gold and -silver, church-plate, coinage, jewels, and the like. - -In his old age he met with the end deemed worthy of a warrior, being -slain in battle whilst contending against a neighbouring chieftain. At -his burial a Norse scald composed that wild barbaric requiem, which -Idris had heard Lorelie playing on the organ--a requiem that had -accompanied the funeral of every Ravengar since: though doubtless with -considerable variations from the original strain. - -Draco left one son only, Magnus by name. He was but a child at the time -of his father's death, and the widowed mother, Hilda, fearing that -an attempt might be made to deprive him of his patrimonial treasure, -secretly buried it, purposing to give it to her son when he should be -of age to defend his rights. - -For a time all went well. The warriors who had followed the standard -of Draco rallied around his son, and looked forward to the day when -he should emulate or surpass the deeds of his father. But eventually -murmurings arose. The boy was too much under his mother's influence, -they thought: the hand that should have been wielding the spear was -more often found holding the pen. She was accused of teaching him dark -and curious arts. - -It was a long time, however, before the Vikings ventured to express -their displeasure openly, for they feared Hilda. She was an Alruna, -that is, an _all-runic_ or all-wise woman, who had power to cast -pernicious spells upon those who offended her. - -At last, one day, provoked to the extreme by some act of imprudence -on her part, they came to Magnus and telling him that they were -going to banish his mother, they gave him the choice of being their -chieftain or of accompanying her into exile. Magnus elected to stand -with his father's warriors, and, as head of the clan, in full and -solemn doom-ring, he pronounced upon his mother sentence of perpetual -banishment. - -Cut to the heart by this unfilial act Hilda vowed that she would never -reveal to him the hiding-place of the treasure: and so, being banished, -she returned to her native Norseland, taking with her the silver -altar-ring. - -With the lapse of time, however, she began to relent towards her absent -son. She yearned to see him again, but was now too old to undertake -the fatigues attending the voyage. She resolved to break her oath of -silence and to tell him where the treasure lay concealed. To secure -herself from treachery on the part of her messenger, who might have -appropriated the wealth himself if entrusted with the secret of its -hiding-place, she had recourse to the following expedient. She engraved -upon the altar-ring a sentence indicative of the exact site of the -treasure, making use of runic letters, arranged in such a way that none -but Magnus could understand them: for cryptic writing had been one of -the many arts she had taught him. This done, she despatched the ring by -the hand of a herald. - -But Magnus was now dead. His son and successor was Ulric, who, because -his lance bore a small pennon decorated with the figure of a raven, was -called Ravengar or Raven Spear, a name that became hereditary. - -Hilda's messenger entered the hall at the hour when Ulric sat feasting -with his warriors. In accordance with the Norse rites of hospitality -the herald was given a seat at the board. No question was asked of him, -and he resolved to defer his message till the meal should be over. -This delay proved fatal to him, for, during the course of the feast, -he accidentally drew forth the altar-ring. In a moment the ancient -greybeards--old companions of Draco--recognized the sacred relic of -Odin, and sternly commanded the stranger to explain how he became -possessed of their former chieftain's ring: it had formed a part of the -missing treasure: he must, therefore, know where the remainder was. - -With a stammering tongue the herald stated that he was a messenger from -the Lady Hilda, and pointing to the inscription upon the ring, said -that it indicated the hiding-place of the treasure. - -Ulric, unskilled in the art of letters, passed the ring on to the -sagamen and scalds, who shook their heads over it. Magnus, the only -one capable of reading the riddle, was no more. The herald himself -was unable to decipher the message that his mistress had caused to be -engraved. To the assembled Vikings his words seemed an idle tale: his -ignorance was imputed to knavery: swords gleamed in the air: the oaken -rafters rang with excited cries. - -At one end of the hall on a daïs there stood, as was usual in those -days, rude images of the gods. To this spot the herald was dragged and -told that unless he revealed the hiding-place of the treasure he should -be sacrificed there and then to Odin and Thor. - -Vain was his plea of ignorance: vain his appeal for mercy: he was -slain by the dagger of Ulric, himself the priest as well as the chief -of the clan: the altar-ring was dipped in the blood of the victim, and -the red drops were sprinkled on all present. With his dying breath the -herald called upon heaven to be his avenger, invoking a curse upon the -head of him who should discover the treasure, and praying that the -finder might meet with a death as violent as his own. - -Afterwards, when Ulric came to clean the ring, he found he could not -remove the stain of blood, and the sagamen who examined it declared -that the mark would never be effaced till one of the Raven-race should -die as an atonement for the death of the herald, whose sacred character -had been impiously set at nought. - -Ulric retained the ring as the symbol of his authority: at his death it -passed to his son, and so from generation to generation it continued -in the Ravengar family as a venerated heirloom. In the days of Charles -II the first Earl of Ormsby, Lancelot Ravengar, adopted the ring as an -armorial device, taking as his supporters two ravens, in allusion to -the birds that were said to have directed the course of Draco's galley. - -Such was the story of the runic ring, a story to which Idris listened -with the deepest interest. It was clear to him that his Viking Orm -and Lorelie's Draco were identical, the Norse form of the name having -doubtless been changed into its Latin equivalent by the original -monkish chronicler. - -"And is the ring still in the possession of the Ravengars?" he asked, -when Lorelie had come to the end of her story. - -"No: about fifty years ago it was stolen." - -"Under what circumstances?" - -"The affair was a mystery. The ring was kept with other heirlooms in -the jewel-room at Ravenhall. According to the butler it was secure in -its glass case when he locked the door of the jewel-room at night: in -the morning it was gone. Suspicion fell upon a steward who was under -notice of dismissal: it is supposed that he was actuated by a spirit -of revenge. The detectives employed in the case failed, however, to -connect him with the theft, nor did their investigations lead to any -result so far as regards the recovery of the ring." - -"The steward, if he were guilty, probably disposed of the relic on the -Continent," said Idris. "At any rate it found its way to Nantes, for -the Ravengar heirloom must surely have been the very ring which led to -the murder of M. Duchesne and the consequent arrest of my father." - -"I believe--nay, I am certain it was," answered Lorelie. - -Her eyes drooped and a shadow passed over her face. Any reference to -Eric Marville seemed to trouble her, and Idris resolved to avoid the -mention of his name. - -"And during the many centuries in which this ring was in the possession -of the Ravengars," he continued, "was no one ever found capable of -deciphering the runic inscription?" - -"No one. In time past the ring was submitted to many antiquaries, but -they could make nothing of it." - -Idris, though justly proud of his success in a matter wherein experts -had failed, kept his own counsel for the present, and refrained from -mentioning that _he_ had accomplished the feat. - -"Then, of course, the treasure of old Orm--Draco, I mean--has never -been discovered?" - -"Not by a Ravengar." - -"But by some one else probably. It is not likely that the buried -treasure has remained undiscovered for a thousand years." - -"The legend says that only a Ravengar can discover it, and that in the -very moment of discovery he will forfeit his life as an atonement for -the death of the herald. But this," added Lorelie with a smile, "is, of -course, mere poetic fancy." - -"There is one omission in your story. You did not state where this -sea-king, Draco, was buried." - -"The legend does not say. You are forgetting that it _is_ a legend, -invented, perhaps, by some imaginative king-at-arms in order to -decorate the vanity of the first Earl of Ormsby with a long pedigree -and a romantic origin." - -But Idris had received proofs that the story was true in the main. -For example, there had actually existed an altar-ring such as -described--for he had seen and handled it himself--a ring engraved with -a sentence which not only spoke of a buried treasure, but also bore -the names of the very persons, Orm, Hilda, and Magnus, who had figured -so prominently in the story. The fragment of tapestry brought from the -interior of the ancient tumulus supplied additional evidence as to the -historic existence of the Golden Viking and the widowed Hilda. - -"This Draco," continued Idris, "if he received the sepulchral honours -due to a Norse chief, would be buried beneath an immense mound of -earth. If we are to look for his tomb in this neighbourhood we shall -perhaps find it in a tumulus on the seashore about four miles from -here." - -"I know the eminence you refer to," replied Lorelie. "It is called -Ormfell, that is, Orm's Hill; and therefore it cannot be Draco's tomb, -otherwise it would be called Draconfell, or something similar." - -Idris did not stop to show the fallacy of this mode of reasoning, but -continued:-- - -"Has this hillock never been opened by the Earls of Ormsby to see what -it contains?" - -"Not that I am aware of." - -It was strange, Idris thought, that while the tumulus had retained the -true Norse name of the Viking, his descendants, the Ravengars, should -have remembered him only by his Latinized name of Draco. This explained -why Ormfell had never suggested itself to them as the tomb of their -ancestor. In forgetting that he was likewise called Orm, they had -unwittingly deprived themselves of an indication as to the place of the -buried treasure. - -Idris' musings were brought to an end by Lorelie's rising to take her -departure, which caused him to murmur something about the sadness of -parting. - -"But if there were no parting there would never be the sweetness of -meeting," was her reply. - -Was this no more than a pretty saying on her part; or did she really -look forward with pleasure to their next meeting? - -Emboldened by her words he raised her hand to his lips before she was -aware of his intention. - -"Mr. Breakspear, you must not do that," she said in a trembling voice, -and hastily withdrawing her hand from his. Her face was pale: a strange -look came into her eyes, and she turned and hurried away. Idris, -trembling lest he should have given offence, watched her till she was -out of sight, and then went slowly back to Wave Crest. - -Verily he was a fortunate fellow! Fresh from a charming _tête-à-tête_ -with one fair lady he was now to have the like with a second: for, on -passing through the garden-gate, he saw Beatrice Ravengar reading in a -low chair beneath the apple-trees--Beatrice, the sea-king's daughter, -the descendant of that very Viking whose bones reposed in Ormfell! - -Her heart beat more quickly as Idris approached. He, little divining -the cause of the colour that played so enchantingly over her cheek, -thought Godfrey's sister a very pretty maiden indeed. True, she lacked -the dark starry beauty of Lorelie--Idris' tastes ran in favour of -brunettes--yet there was a subtle witchery in Beatrice's soft grey eyes -and winsome expression; in her sunny hair: and in her graceful figure, -set off as it then was, by a dainty dress of soft muslin. - -"My name, being Breakspear," said he, with mock sternness, as he took -a seat beside her, "you will not be surprised to learn that I have a -lance to break with you." - -"And what have I done that is amiss?" asked Beatrice, outwardly -smiling, but inwardly uneasy: for some secret feeling told her that -he had just left the presence of Mademoiselle Rivière, and she feared -lest that lady should have said something to prejudice her in the eyes -of Idris. A fair return, for had not she herself let fall in Idris' -presence words unfriendly to Lorelie? - -"You have committed the sin of omission in not telling me that the -armorial shield of the Ravengars is decorated with a silver ring." - -"I am aware that a ring figures in their coat of arms," said Beatrice, -with wide, wondering eyes, "but where is my fault in not telling you -of it? Surely," she added, with a sudden intuition as to his meaning, -"surely you do not mean to say that there is some connection between -your runic ring and the Ravengar device?" - -Idris' reply was to repeat the story he had just heard. - -"This is all new to me," said Beatrice, when he had finished, "but then -I never was a Ravengar. I am the daughter of my mother, and have taken -little, if any, interest in the genealogy and family traditions of my -ancestors, the belted earls." - -"You should now look with more favour on the Viking's skull as being -that of your great forefather. His object in coming down the staircase -last night was evidently to introduce himself to you, his youngest -descendant.--But I have interrupted your reading, for which I beg -pardon. May I ask the title of your book?" - -"Longfellow's '_Saga of King Olaf_.' You have read it?" - -"No: but a Norse saga in verse is, by its very nature, certain to -interest me. Will you not read aloud, Miss Ravengar?" - -There is little Beatrice would not have done to please Idris, and -accordingly she began the reading of the poem. Her voice was clear -and silvery, and marked at times by a cadence, plaintive and pretty. -Idris would have fared ill had he been required to give a summary of -the poem, for he paid little attention to the words, finding a greater -charm in the face and voice of the reader. More than once the thought -stole over him that if he had not seen Mademoiselle Rivière his love -might have found its resting-place in Beatrice. - -Reading smoothly onward Beatrice came to the scene in which the -reluctant bride Gudrun, on her wedding-night, draws near to the couch -of Olaf, dagger in hand and murder in her heart. - - - "'What is that,' King Olaf said, - 'Gleams so bright above thy head? - Wherefore standest thou so white - In pale moonlight?' - - "''Tis the bodkin that I wear - When at night I bind my hair.'" - - -Beatrice paused. "Bodkin?" she said. "That's not the right word. Ladies -don't fasten their hair with bodkins." - -"Poets do not speak with the precision of grammarians. I suppose he -should have said hairpin." - -"Did they use hairpins in those days, then?" - -"Without a doubt," replied Idris, being a little hazy on the point, -nevertheless. - -"Gudrun must have worn a very large hairpin, if she could liken a -dagger to it." - -"I suppose it was not very unlike the stiletto contrivances worn by -ladies of the present day," answered Idris. - - - "''Tis the bodkin that I wear - When at night I bind my hair.'" - - -repeated Beatrice. "At night? Did she wear it in her hair while -sleeping?" - -"I never knew the lady," laughed Idris, "so I am unable to answer. Why -shouldn't she?" - -"Because during sleep she might turn her head upon the point and -receive an unpleasant stab." - -"You speak from experience?" - -"An experience as recent only as last night." - -"We must leave Gudrun's bodkin suspended in midair while you tell me -how this happened." - -"There is really nothing to tell. When I went to bed I forgot to remove -the stiletto from my hair. Somehow, I was unable to sleep last night." - -"You were thinking of the skull, perhaps?" - -"Yes, it must have been that," replied Beatrice, colouring at this -prevarication, for had she spoken truly, she must have told him that -_he_ was the cause of her unrest. - -"And so," she continued, "while I was tossing from side to side, the -stiletto must have got loose, and in turning my head on the pillow I -received a stab from the point of it. Nothing to speak of, a mere scalp -wound." - -"It was well the point was not forced into your brain. I have heard -of fatal accidents resulting from the use of these stiletto-pins. You -discarded it at once?" - -"Of course." - -"Forever?" - -"O, no. Only till the morning," replied Beatrice demurely. - -"What? You have not let it serve as a warning? O, Miss Ravengar, Miss -Ravengar! what is this I see shimmering in your hair at the present -moment?" - -"A proof of feminine vanity, for it is of no real use, being merely an -ornament." - -"May I inspect the savage weapon that might have ended your existence, -and may yet, since you decline to learn wisdom from experience?" - -Beatrice drew forth the hairpin. It was shaped like a dagger, the steel -being slender, rounded, and tapering to a point: the hilt of gold set -with brilliants. - -As soon as Idris saw it he stared at it as if mesmerized, the tapering -point of the slender steel was so strangely suggestive of the metal -fragment that had fallen from the Viking's skull. He took it from his -pocket and held it out to her. - -"Miss Ravengar, what should you say this is?" - -"That?" replied Beatrice. "That is a part of a hairpin. See!" - -She laid it upon her open palm beside her own stiletto. The terminal -of the latter corresponded exactly in form and colour with the broken -fragment: at least, the difference, if difference there were, was -imperceptible by the naked eye. - -"It certainly _looks_ like a hairpin." - -"Looks like it, do you say?" said Beatrice, with a sort of reproach in -her tone. "It _is_," she asseverated firmly. - -"What reason have you for this opinion other than mere resemblance?" -asked Idris, a little surprised by her air of certitude. - -"I do not reason upon it. I _know_ it is a hairpin," she replied, with -a peculiar emphasis upon the "know." - -There was a strangeness in her manner, an entire reversal of her former -self: her face seemed hallowed by a light like the inspired expression -of a sibyl. The expression was momentary only, dying as soon as born, -but it left Idris curiously impressed. - -"Hilda the Alruna may have looked like that, when delivering her -oracles," he thought. - -"Why do you value this piece of steel?" asked Beatrice, as she restored -it to him. - -"This little piece of steel, Miss Ravengar, is nothing less than the -instrument that gave your ancestor Orm his _coup-de-grâce_. It dropped -out of the skull last night. For the future my motto must be, 'When in -doubt, consult Miss Ravengar.' By your wit I was enabled to discover -the secret entrance to Ormfell; and now, when wondering of what this -steel fragment once formed part, you come to my aid again by reading a -poem concerning a Norse lady, whose intended action towards her husband -seems almost to have a direct bearing upon the Viking's skull. Our -Norse forefathers, you will remember, were accustomed to regard their -maidens as prophetesses, whose opinions, when solemnly invoked, were to -be received as oracles. I will imitate their example, and accept your -dictum that this is a fragment of a lady's hairpin." - -Godfrey, who had joined the pair a few minutes previously, and had -stood a silent listener of the conversation, now intervened with a -remark. - -"Well, then, you must admit," said he, "that this opinion clashes with -the story told by the tapestry, which tapestry avers that Orm died -with a cloth-yard shaft sticking in him." - -"The two ideas are not irreconcilable," argued Idris. "My belief is -that we have here," holding up the piece of steel, "a silent testimony -to a domestic tragedy of a thousand years ago. Old Orm the Viking was -carried from the battle-field wounded by an arrow. His wife Hilda -was perhaps enamoured of some other warrior: and so, while affecting -to nurse her husband, she may have hastened his end by secretly -driving her strong hairpin into his head, a feat she could perform -with comparative safety to herself, there being no coroner's inquest -in those days. His death would be attributed to the arrow-wound, and -therefore is so represented on the tapestry." - -"If your inference be right," said Beatrice, "it is a strange -verification of the old saying, 'Murder will out.' Fancy the crime -coming to light after the lapse of a thousand years! Though it is not -very kind of you, Mr. Breakspear," she added, with a mock pout, "to -attempt to prove that my ancestress Hilda was a murderess. You will be -saying next that a taste for assassination is one of our family traits, -and that the homicidal microbe runs in my blood." - -"The lapse of ten centuries will have effectually eliminated it." - -"_Merci!_" she returned, dropping him a mock curtsey. "Yes: it is -consoling to reflect that this little piece of family scandal is -removed from us by the space of a full millennium." - -"But Idris is altogether wrong in his theory," remarked Godfrey -decisively. "This piece of steel is not ancient at all." - -"Ay, ay, destroyer of my romance!" returned Idris. "Can you give me -satisfactory proof that it is not ancient?" - -"I think so: if you will let me do what I like with it." - -Idris shook his head. - -"I value this fragment," he explained, "believing in its antiquity. You -would not willingly destroy the bullet that killed Nelson, nor will I -consent to destroy the weapon that slew my Viking." - -"But if I could clearly demonstrate to you that it is a modern piece of -steel--what then?" - -"In that case it would lose its chief value in my eyes, and it would -prove, among other things, that the skull is not Orm's: for if this -steel be modern, so likewise must be the skull. But how are you going -to prove its modernity? Are not iron and steel alike in all ages? Is -the steel that was wrought on the anvil of the Norse armourer different -from the steel forged to-day in the foundries of Sheffield?" - -"Yes, in some respects. I want to conduct a chemical experiment with -this relic, an experiment which will necessitate its destruction. -Still, if I succeed in demonstrating its modernity you will not object?" - -"Far from it. But are you likely to demonstrate it?" - -"Well, of course, I am open to failure. My opinion rests upon a certain -assumption, which assumption, if correct, will conclusively show that -this steel was forged within modern times. _Nous verrons._" - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -IDRIS DECLARES HIS LOVE - - -How long should a man have known a woman before venturing upon a -proposal of love? Such was the question now occupying the mind of Idris. - -He had seen Mademoiselle Rivière three times only: he had not spent -above seven hours in her presence: yet had they been seven hundred -instead of seven he knew that his feeling for her would be no stronger -at the end of that time than at the beginning. The moon might have its -period of crescent and wane: not so his love: its circle was full and -complete from the first moment of his setting eyes upon her. - -She was now the sole object of his thoughts. All other matters: the -quest for his father, the problem of the Viking's skull, were relegated -to the dim and distant future; what were they compared with the winning -of Lorelie? - -He found himself continually dwelling upon her manner towards him at -the moment of their last parting. He was uncertain whether she was -startled only, or vexed, by his act of gallantry; whether he must draw -hope or despair from that event; and he knew not which was the wiser -course--to declare his love at once, or to defer the proposal till he -had gained a greater hold upon her affections. A too premature avowal -might be disastrous: on the other hand to be dilatory might lead to his -being forestalled by Viscount Walden. - -This latter argument prevailed with him, and he resolved to see -Lorelie at once, and take the momentous step of giving utterance to his -feelings. Even rejection was preferable to the state of suspense in -which he was now living. - -On presenting himself at The Cedars he was told by the maid who opened -the door that her mistress was out. Where had she gone? The maid was -not certain, but she fancied that "Ma'amzelle" had said something about -spending the afternoon in Ravenhall Park. - -Accordingly Idris betook himself to this park, a large extent of which -was open to the public: and after a short search he found Lorelie -seated within a charming recess formed by dark rocks overhung with -blossoming foliage. She was holding in her hand a small writing-pad, -upon which lay some sheets of manuscript that she was apparently -correcting and annotating with a pencil, doubtless putting some -emendatory touches to her drama, _The Fatal Skull_. - -The place, though picturesque, was hardly the ideal spot for his -love-avowal, since it was within sight of the majestic towers of -Ravenhall, which, in Idris' opinion, offered a very powerful argument -in favour of Lord Walden's suit. - -On seeing Idris Lorelie at once made way for him on the seat beside -her, the glad light in her eyes showing that he was far from being an -unwelcome visitor. - -Though Idris had set out in bold spirit, yet now, faced by opportunity, -he began to realize that the task required more courage than he was -master of: and for a long time he talked of other matters, or rather -he let Lorelie carry on the conversation, finding it easier to be a -listener than a speaker. - -And Lorelie _could_ talk: charmingly, and upon many topics that are -supposed to be the peculiar province of the masculine mind. She had -never seemed so bright and interesting as on this present occasion. -How sweet and silvery her laugh! How pretty the curve of her lips, and -how glowing their colour! Supposing he were to stoop suddenly and kiss -them? Would not such an act be tantamount to a love-avowal, and thus -relieve him from the difficulty of an oral confession? - -Lorelie, observant at last of Idris' quiet manner, rallied him on his -want of spirits. - -"You seem very grave to-day, Mr. Breakspear?" - -"Do I, mademoiselle? I am thinking." - -"May I share your thoughts?" - -"You may share my life if you will." - -"Mr. Breakspear, what are you saying?" exclaimed Lorelie, quickly, -breathlessly. - -"That I love you. Is that a fault? Nay, rather, it would be a fault not -to love you." - -Lorelie drew a deep shuddering breath. Their eyes met: a strange -wistful tenderness in hers. Such a look Idris had never before received -from woman: he knew what it meant, and grew giddy at the thought that -he had the power to evoke it. - -Then, in a moment, all was changed! - -A priestess, starting in agony from the Delphic tripod, could not have -exhibited a wilder mien than did Lorelie at that moment as she rose to -her feet, her hands pressed to her bosom as if to repress the emotion -struggling there: in her eyes an expression of horror, the startled -guilty look of one who, tempted to listen to wrong, is suddenly -recalled to a sense of duty. - -Idris had wanted to say more, to speak of the depth of his love, but -that look chilled all the warmth of his feelings, and checked the words -that were rising to his lips. - -"Mr. Breakspear," she began, with a strange "catch" in her voice, "you -saved my life from the sea, and it may be that gratitude has led me -to--to--how shall I express myself?--to be too warm in my friendship. -I have not guarded myself sufficiently. If there has been anything -in my manner or words calculated to impress you with the belief -that your addresses would be acceptable to me, I beg--I entreat--of -you to forgive me. Such utterance--such action--on my part has been -unintentional. I cannot listen to you." - -With many women a "No" may sometimes mean "Yes," but this was not the -case with Lorelie Rivière. Idris felt that her decision was final, -irrevocable. And yet what was the meaning of that first look of rapture -that had come into her eyes? - -"You do well to refuse me, mademoiselle: to refuse in truth any suitor, -for who indeed is worthy of you, but----" - -"Mr. Breakspear, for pity's sake be silent. See!" - -She drew something from her dress-pocket, turned aside for a moment, -and then held out the third finger of her left hand. And at the sight -Idris, strong man though he was, staggered as a man may stagger on -hearing his death sentence. - -"Great heaven! You are not married?" he said hoarsely. - -"Ten months ago. Secretly. At Nice." - -"To--to----?" - -But he knew the name before she pronounced it. - -"To Lord Walden--yes." - -The earth that afternoon was roofed with a sky of deep delicious azure: -the soft breeze rippled the leaves of the woodland, and at each breath -the air became alive with the white blossoms of the trees. Nothing -could be sweeter or fairer than this summer day, but its charm was not -for Idris. With the knowledge that Lorelie could never be his, there -passed away a glory from the earth. - -Mechanically he turned his eyes towards Ravenhall. Lorelie followed -the direction of his glance. Through a vista in the trees they could -see the castellated pile, set with mullioned casements, and fronted -with ivied terraces ascended by stately flights of stone steps. She -knew--and bitter was the knowledge--that Idris was thinking that -_there_ was the prize for which she had sold herself. - -He wronged her, however, by this thought. - -When Lorelie, eighteen months before, had listened to the vows of -Viscount Walden she had honestly believed herself to be in love with -him. Idris' avowal had shown her the hollowness of that belief. Vivid -as fire on a dark night there suddenly flashed upon her trembling mind -the overwhelming revelation that her feeling for her husband was as -nothing compared with her feeling for Idris. If all the happiness she -had previously known had been suddenly sublimated and concentrated -into one single intense sensation of a moment's duration it would not -have equalled the rapture evoked by Idris' avowal. But in a moment the -feeling had gone, giving place to the dull lethargy of despair. Though -realizing but too plainly that she had married the wrong man, the -knowledge of the fact did not diminish the loyalty due to her husband. -Faithful she would ever remain, but it was not her fault if the love -that she could henceforth give him would be scarcely deserving of the -name. - -She would have died rather than have given utterance to this -confession, but Idris had read the secret in her eyes: she knew that -he had read it, and the knowledge added to her confusion and made her -unable to meet his glance. - -There was a long silence between them. What was there to talk about? -Their mutual love? That was of necessity a forbidden subject; and to -talk of anything less than this seemed a mockery of the deep feelings -within them. - -Parted from Lorelie by adverse fortune what remained for Idris but to -face the situation bravely? - -"Mademoiselle," he said, using from habit the title that was no longer -hers, "I take my leave. Forgive me, if my words have caused you pain. -Farewell." - -"But not forever. We may meet from time to time as--as friends." - -Did she not realize that such friendship might be perilous? No: and -as Idris gazed upon her clear eyes he saw there a spirit too pure to -suffer itself to do wrong. - -"You must forget," she faltered, "that you have ever entertained -this--this feeling for me." - -Idris smiled bitterly. He knew--_she_ knew--that it was the one event -in their lives they never would forget. - -At their last parting he had kissed her hand: he did not venture even -to touch it now, but, lifting his hat, he quietly withdrew. - -With tears in her eyes Lorelie watched him till he was lost to view. - -"If you knew the truth," she murmured, "your feeling for me would not -be love but hatred." - -In melancholy mood Idris returned to Wave Crest. Beatrice, quick to -interpret his looks, guessed what had happened: and though the result -was such as she herself desired, yet the sight of his dejection touched -her to the quick and filled her with a mixed feeling of pity and anger. -Who, forsooth, was Mademoiselle Rivière that she should treat Idris' -love as of no account? - -Aware that Lorelie was not favourably regarded by Beatrice, Idris -had prudently refrained from making the latter a confidante of his -love-affair, but now, sitting down beside her, he proceeded to tell her -all. - -But when Beatrice heard the amazing news that Lorelie Rivière was in -reality Viscountess Walden, and therefore her cousin by marriage, a -look not merely of wonder but of dismay stole over her face. - -"Have you proof of this?" she asked breathlessly. - -"Proof of what?" exclaimed Godfrey, entering the room at this juncture. - -"That Mademoiselle Rivière is Ivar's wife," she replied. - -"Well, I did not ask her to produce her marriage certificate," said -Idris, somewhat vexed that Lorelie's word should be doubted. "For the -truth of her words I had better refer you to your cousin, Lord Walden -himself. We see now the cause of his surliness the other night. Any -fellow with so lovely a wife might be jealous on learning that she had -spent five hours in a lonely cave _tête-à-tête_ with a stranger." - -"He might, nevertheless, have had the grace to give you a few words of -thanks for saving her life," remarked Godfrey. "I suppose it is from -fear of his father that he keeps the marriage a secret?" - -"Presumably." - -"Hum! rather hazardous to bring her so near to Ravenhall," said Godfrey. - -"And she is really married?" murmured Beatrice. "O, how I have wronged -her!" - -"In what way?" asked Godfrey. "Come, Trixie, let us learn the reason of -your past aversion." - -It was some time before Beatrice could be induced to reply. - -"You remember the case of old Gideon?" she said at last. - -"Perfectly," replied Godfrey, adding for Idris' enlightenment, "he was -an old farmer at the point of death. I was unable to procure a nurse, -and Trixie generously offered her services. The poor fellow died at -midnight; and Trixie, though pressed to remain, left the place and -came walking home all by herself, reaching here at two in the morning. -But what has this to do with Mademoiselle Rivière--I beg her pardon, -Lady Walden?" - -"On my way home," replied Beatrice, "I had to pass her villa, and whom -should I see walking up the garden-path towards the house but Ivar -himself! He had not noticed me, and I did not make myself known to him: -in truth I was so much amazed that I could do nothing but stand silent -under the shadow of the trees, watching, or, if you will, playing the -spy. I saw him open the door of the villa with a key of his own, and -go in. Not knowing that he was married to Mademoiselle Rivière, what -conclusion could I come to but that--that----" - -And here Beatrice paused, leaving her hearers to guess the nature of -her conclusion. - -"And you thought _that_ of Mademoiselle Rivière?" said Idris: and -Beatrice felt keenly the reproach in his tone. - -"I have never whispered my suspicion to any one--not even to you, -Godfrey." - -"The sequel shows the advantage of holding one's tongue," replied her -brother. "It has saved you from having to make a humiliating apology -to the new viscountess. Well, seeing that she is now your cousin, you -cannot do better than acknowledge the relationship by making a call -upon her." - -But Beatrice shrank from this ordeal. - -"I have always shown her by my manner that I dislike her. She must -think me an odious creature." - -"On the contrary," replied Idris, "whenever your name has been -mentioned she has spoken well of you, and has expressed herself as -desirous of your friendship." - -Beatrice was finally persuaded into promising that she would pay the -new viscountess a visit on the morrow: after which, Godfrey, turning -to Idris, addressed himself to a new theme. - -"I spent this morning," he said, "in my laboratory over that piece of -steel taken from your so-called Viking's skull, and I have discovered -it to be of modern fabrication." - -"Ah! and how do you prove it?" said Idris, preparing to argue the point. - -"Chemical analysis shows that the steel contains two per cent. of -platinum." - -"What of that?" said Idris bluntly. - -"Much. Platinum is a metal of modern discovery, first hit on in the -year--well, I forget the exact date, some time about the beginning of -the eighteenth century. Therefore, any steel that is combined with -platinum must have been forged within the past two hundred years, and -consequently cannot be a relic of Norse days." - -"For what purpose is platinum mixed with the steel?" - -"To impart additional hardness." - -"I must accept your dictum as final. Of course the conclusion is that -if the steel be modern, the skull must be modern, too. I must give -up my belief, Miss Ravengar, that I possess the skull of your Viking -ancestor. But then," he went on, "Orm was buried within that hillock: -the pictured tapestry and the name Ormfell prove it. What, then, has -become of his remains?" - -"Crumbled to dust, perhaps, with the lapse of time," suggested Beatrice. - -"The existence of the tapestry confutes you. Solid bone would not -crumble, if a woollen fabric will endure." - -"True," replied Beatrice, with a puzzled look. "I am forgetting the -tapestry. Here's a mystery, indeed! What has become of the Viking's -bones?" - -"If the skeleton within the tumulus be that of a modern person," said -Idris, "how on earth came it there? Who buried him, and----" - -"We do not yet know that it is a 'him,'" interjected Godfrey. "The -skeleton may be the remains of a woman." - -"I speak provisionally. Who buried him, or her, and why should such a -strange grave be chosen?" - -"Because," replied the surgeon, gravely, "because, my dear Idris, -cannot you see that the present occupant of Ormfell did not die a -natural death? The piece of steel lodged in the brain proves that. -He was murdered, murdered with a stiletto hairpin: and he, or they, -that did the deed, knowing, as we know, that Ormfell contains a -grave-chamber, disposed of the victim's body by placing it within the -hillock, no doubt thinking that the remains, if ever discovered, would -be taken for those of some ancient warrior, an error into which we -ourselves would have fallen had not that tapestry remained, I might -say, providentially remained, to tell us otherwise." - -For a few moments both Beatrice and Idris sat dumbfounded at this -startling theory. - -"By heaven! I believe you are right," cried Idris. "And yet this -murder-theory of yours is open to objection. There is the difficulty of -conveying a dead body to Ormfell. Consider the risk of detection that -the murderer would run." - -"The murder may have taken place within Ormfell itself," suggested -Beatrice. - -"That is my view," replied Godfrey, "for there are signs which seem to -point to that conclusion." - -"What signs are they?" asked Idris. - -"You will perhaps think my first reason fanciful," replied Godfrey. -"You have continually maintained," he went on, addressing Idris, -"that the divining rod took a downward bend at a certain point in the -mortuary chamber. What formed the attractive force? 'The voice of thy -brother's blood crieth unto me from the ground!' Shall we say that that -was the true cause? For human blood _has_ been shed there. Have you -forgotten how the tapestry taken from that very spot reddened the water -in which it was placed? Now let us suppose that some one standing at -that point was suddenly struck down from behind: his natural action in -falling would be to clutch at the nearest thing he could lay hold of." - -"Which in his case would be the tapestry," interjected Idris. - -"Just so: and that is my way of accounting for the tearing of that -fabric, and the downward curvature of the rod to which it was attached. -The tapestry at the same time became saturated with the blood of the -victim." - -"Your opinion seems reasonable," remarked Idris, "except as regards -the divining rod; I can't believe that dried blood could produce such -an effect. But the difficulty remains--what has become of the Viking's -bones?" - -And to this question Godfrey could give no satisfactory answer. - -"When do you think this murder took place?" Idris asked. "In our own -days, or long before them?" - -"I see no way at present of fixing the date," Godfrey replied. - -"It may have been twenty, fifty, or a hundred years ago, or even more," -ventured Idris. - -"Any period since the era of the discovery of platinum," answered -Godfrey. - -"Is there no way in these scientific times of ascertaining the age of -that skull?" asked Beatrice. - -Godfrey shook his head. - -"The most skilled anatomist would be puzzled to determine the age of a -given skull," he replied. - -Idris paced uneasily to and fro, assigning the skull in turn to each -of those who, to his knowledge, had been in any way connected with -the runic ring--his father, Lorelie's father, the unknown assassin of -Duchesne, and lastly the masked man of Quilaix. - -"Whoever the victim was," said Beatrice, slowly and thoughtfully, "he -must have been murdered by a woman." - -"_A woman!_" ejaculated Idris. He could not tell why at that moment a -cold feeling should come over him. - -"A woman!" repeated Beatrice, solemnly: "for I still adhere to my -belief that the piece of steel was a fragment of a stiletto hairpin, -and who but a woman would think of using such an instrument?" - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -AT LORELIE'S VILLA - - -On the following day Beatrice Ravengar, with some misgivings, set out -for the purpose of making an afternoon call upon Mademoiselle Rivière, -or, to use her rightful title, Viscountess Walden. - -Idris accompanied her, nominally as her escort, in reality consumed -with the longing to meet Lorelie again. True wisdom told him that he -was but tormenting himself in thus seeing her, that the better way was -to avoid her altogether: but he found this latter course impossible: -he despised himself for his weakness, yet as the moth is attracted by -the light so was Idris attracted by the fascinating personality of -Viscountess Walden. - -On arriving at The Cedars Beatrice was received in a manner so gracious -and winning that her misgivings were immediately put to flight. - -"We are cousins, you and I," said Lorelie, kissing her affectionately, -"and must ever be good friends." - -Beatrice, quick to read character, could tell that the other was really -desirous of her friendship: and as she recalled her unjust suspicion -she felt full of a guilty shame, and was almost tempted to fall upon -her knees, confess her fault, and beg for pardon. - -Aware of the circumstances under which Lorelie and Idris had last -parted, Beatrice viewed their greeting of each other with an interest -that was almost painful to her, and the viscountess knowing that she -was watched, extended to Idris the dignified courtesy that she might -have extended to a stranger, though all the time she was inwardly -tormented lest Idris should think her unduly cold. None but herself -knew how her heart was pulsating beneath her calm exterior. She was -not to be blamed, she argued, for the feeling that had sprung up -self-originated within her breast. Action and tongue may be controlled: -thought never. So long, then, as she controlled her words and action, -what more was required of her? What more? A secret voice seemed to say, -"Never to see Idris again!" - -They sat on the veranda conversing on various topics, and as Beatrice -listened to the charming words and the sweet laugh of the viscountess, -and contemplated her brilliant beauty, she no longer wondered that -Idris should have fallen in love with her. - -During the course of the conversation some details of Lorelie's history -became revealed. - -She was now twenty-three years of age, and had been born at Nantes in -the same year in which her father, Captain Rochefort, had aided Eric -Marville to escape from the Breton prison. Her father she had never -known, nor had he ever been seen again by Madame Rochefort after his -flight in the yacht _Nemesis_. - -When Lorelie was sixteen years of age her mother died, leaving to her -an income sufficient with economy for her maintenance. Henceforward she -had led a solitary independent life, content with her books and music. -In her twenty-first year she met Lord Walden at Monaco. - -They were married privately, and while the earl supposed his son -to be carrying on the course of study requisite for the diplomatic -profession, that son was in reality quietly celebrating his honeymoon -on the Riviera. - -After a few months of wedded life Lorelie suddenly conceived the -purpose of visiting Ormsby, though her husband was opposed to the -idea. By preconcerted arrangement she took up her residence at The -Cedars, some weeks prior to Ivar's home-coming, lest their coincident -arrival should give rise to suspicion. - -And here she remained, concealing her rightful name and rank in -compliance with Ivar's wish, and waiting till a favourable opportunity -should arrive for making the marriage known to the stern old earl. - -Secret contempt stole over Idris at the course pursued by the viscount. -A man might be very well content to brave his father's anger and the -loss of an estate, however splendid, for such a wife as Lorelie. By -some subtle process of telepathy his thoughts communicated themselves -to her, and knowing that _he_ would not have hesitated at such -sacrifice, the viscountess trembled and durst not meet his glance, -lest he should read in her eyes more than he ought. Contrary to the -proverb the third person on this occasion was not _de trop_. Lorelie -felt grateful for the presence of Beatrice, and clung to her as to a -protecting angel. - -"May I add one to this pleasant trio?" said a new voice, breaking in -upon them: and, looking up, Idris caught the suspicious glance of the -man whom he was striving not to hate--Lorelie's husband! - -Lord Walden coldly acknowledged Idris' presence, smiled at Beatrice, -and still keeping up the pretence of being merely a personal friend of -Lorelie's, was addressing her as "Mademoiselle Rivière," when Beatrice -intervened with, "Why disguise the truth, Cousin Ivar? We know that -there is no Mademoiselle Rivière now." - -"Ah! then that makes it much more pleasant for all concerned." - -But though he spoke thus, there was on his face a look that showed he -was not over-pleased to learn that the truth had become known. - -"You may rely upon our secrecy," added Beatrice, thinking to put him at -his ease. - -"I trust so," replied Ivar, coldly. - -He took a seat beside Lorelie, and proceeded to roll a cigarette, -remarking as he did so, "You do not object?" - -Lorelie assented with a smile that evoked the jealousy of the foolish -Idris. If a woman may not smile upon her husband, upon whom may she -smile? - -Concluding that he and Beatrice were better away, Idris now arose, but -Lorelie opposed their departure. - -"Going after so short a stay?" she remonstrated. "Now you are here you -must remain for the evening, and--and Mr. Breakspear as well," she -added, glancing at Idris. - -Her manner was so persuasive that the two visitors lacked courage -to refuse the invitation. Thinking, however, that the viscount and -his wife might wish to exchange confidences, Idris offered his arm -to Beatrice and invited her to a stroll through the grounds that -surrounded the villa. - -As Beatrice withdrew leaning on the arm of Idris and blushing at some -compliment of his, Lorelie glanced after them with a touch of envy -in her eyes. Her days for receiving such attentions were over: her -husband had ceased to be her lover. She could not avoid contrasting -the appearance of the two men--Ivar's pallid face and languid air with -Idris' healthful bronzed complexion and splendid physique. There was -a difference of ten years in their ages: and though Ivar was scarcely -past twenty, his face bore signs of dissipation--signs which his wife -perceived with surprise and sorrow. - -No sooner were Idris and Beatrice out of earshot than Ivar turned a -frowning countenance upon his wife. - -"Why have you told them of our marriage?" - -"It was necessary, Ivar." - -As she recalled the occasion of its disclosure a faint colour tinged -her cheek; and Ivar, though not usually a quick-witted person, -immediately suspected the cause. - -"Necessitated by that fellow's making love to you, I presume?" he said, -eyeing her keenly. - -"Ivar," she answered quietly, evading his question, "so long as men -think me free----" - -"Free! that's a good word." - -"So long as I am supposed to be unmarried," she continued, correcting -her expression, "so long shall I be liable to receive attentions from -other men. You can easily remedy this by making our marriage known." - -"O, harping on that string again," said Ivar impatiently. "It's out -of the question--at present. The governor would never forgive me for -marrying a woman of no family, especially," he added, with something -like a sneer, "especially a woman who admits that there is a shadow on -her name." - -There was a flash of resentment in the eyes that were turned suddenly -upon him. - -"You can bear me witness it was before our marriage and not after that -I confessed to having a secret." - -"You would not tell me its nature." - -"No: nor ever shall," replied Lorelie, with a hardening of her -features. "You were willing to take me as I was, and to ask no -questions as to my past. You promised never to refer to my secret. -But--how often have you reproached me with it?" - -Ivar smoked on in moody silence. It was true he had given no thought -to her secret in his first glow of passion. A slave to sensuality he -had married Lorelie for her beauty, not knowing who or whence she was, -ignorant even that her true name was Rochefort. Now that her beauty was -beginning to pall upon him, a fact he took little pains to disguise, -this secret that darkened her past began to trouble him. What -answer was he to give to the editors of "Debrett" and "Burke," when -interrogated as to his wife's family? - -"Ivar," Lorelie continued earnestly, "your visits here are beginning to -be noticed. My character is becoming exposed to suspicions. You will -let the world know that I am your wife, will you not?" - -No true man could have resisted the appealing glance of her eyes, the -pleading tone of her soft voice; but Ivar, being no true man, was proof -against both. - -"Impossible, at present," he frowned. "I have raised you from -comparative poverty to affluence; I have surrounded you with luxury, -and, by heaven! you little know at what cost, and at what risk to -myself! I have made you my wife: be content with that. You will be a -countess some day; think of your future triumph over those who slight -you now. If people talk, you must put up with it, or go away from -Ormsby. It was against my wish that you came here. But your vanity is -such that you must feast your eyes daily upon your future heritage of -Ravenhall." - -"It was neither the desire to see the Ravengar lands, nor the wish even -to be near you, that drew me to Ormsby, but a very different motive." - -"In the devil's name, what motive?" said Ivar, elevating his eyebrows -in surprise. - -"It is a part of the secret of my life. But, being here, here I remain. -And, Ivar, I must be acknowledged," she added firmly. - -"Of course: you are burning to exhibit yourself as Viscountess Walden; -to shine in ancestral diamonds; to reign at Ravenhall; to be queen of -the county-side; to be courted and admired at fêtes and balls." - -"No, Ivar, no; I care nothing for these things, but much for the name -of wife. To think that I must plead with my own husband to redeem my -name from reproach! What have you to fear from your father's anger? As -you are his legitimate and only son he cannot deprive you of the title, -even if he would; as to the Ravengar estate, that is entailed, and must -therefore descend to you. Of what, then, are you afraid?" - -"It is true that the original estate, the estate of the first earl, is -entailed; but since his day the Ravengar lands have more than doubled. -These later acquisitions the governor can dispose of as he will. If -I offend him he may make them over to some one else, to Beatrice for -example, since she is a great favourite of his." - -"That's a temptation with me to reveal our marriage," said Lorelie with -a smile. "One half of the Ravengar estate would form a pretty dowry for -her and Mr. Breakspear." - -"Her and Breakspear?" Ivar repeated. "Is it your wish, then, that he -should marry Beatrice? That fellow may have saved your life," he added -darkly, "but it doesn't follow that you must seek to reward him with -the hand of my cousin." - -"Events are shaping themselves that way," Lorelie remarked quietly, -with a glance at the distant Beatrice, who was laughing gaily while -Idris bent over her. "And really it can be no concern of yours whom she -marries." - -"She is a Ravengar," replied Ivar, loftily. "There is the family name -to be considered. Pray, who is this insolent Breakspear, that first -makes love to you, and now aspires to Beatrice?" - -"Mr. Idris Breakspear----" began Lorelie, and then she stopped, -surprised at the look upon Ivar's face. - -"_Idris!_" said the viscount quickly. "Is his name Idris?" - -"Yes, why?" - -"O, nothing. It's an uncommon name, that's all." With a half-laugh, he -added, more to himself than to Lorelie: "Idris Breakspear. Humph! Now -if it were Idris Marville!" - -It was now Lorelie's turn to be surprised. Till this moment she had -been unaware that the name of Idris Marville was known to her husband. - -"But, Ivar," she answered quietly, "Marville, and not Breakspear, -happens to be his true name." - -Lord Walden stopped short in his smoking, took the cigarette from his -lips, and stared open-mouthed at Lorelie with a look very much like -fear upon his face. - -"What do you say?" he muttered hoarsely. "Idris Marville. But, bah!" he -continued, an expression of relief clearing his features: "that can't -be the fellow I have in mind. My Idris Marville died at Paris seven -years ago." - -"And so did he--in the newspapers. For a reason of his own he let the -world think that he had perished in a hotel-fire." - -At this statement Ivar's agitation became extreme. The cigarette -dropped from his fingers; his face became livid. - -"Why should his being alive trouble you?" asked Lorelie, looking in -wonder at her husband. - -For some moments Ivar hesitated, and when at last his answer came, -Lorelie intuitively felt that he was not stating the true cause of his -disquietude. - -"You would marry that fellow to Beatrice?" he said, moistening his dry -white lips. "Why he is the son of a--a--felon: his father was tried for -murder at Nantes, and found guilty." - -"Have you made a point of studying the bygone criminal trials of -France? If not, how have you learned this?" - -"I heard the story from--from my father," replied Ivar slowly, as if -reluctant to make the admission. - -At this Lorelie gave a very palpable start. A curious light came into -her eyes. She seemed as if struck by some new and surprising idea. - -"And how came _he_ to learn it?" - -"He was in Brittany at the time of the trial, and could not avoid -hearing all about it. The crime created, as newspapers say, a great -sensation. For weeks the people of Nantes talked of little else." - -"Your father's ten years' absence from Ravenhall was spent in Brittany, -then?" - -"A portion of the time," replied Ivar, evidently uneasy under his -wife's catechism. - -"And so this murder-trial," observed Lorelie, with a thoughtful -air, "this trial which took place so far back as twenty-seven years -ago--that is before you and I were born--has formed a topic of -conversation between yourself and your father. What necessity led him -to talk of the matter to you?" - -But Ivar waived this question by asking one. - -"What has brought that fellow to Ormsby?" he said, nodding his head in -the direction of Idris. - -"He is trying to discover his father; for he believes, rightly or -wrongly, that Eric Marville is still alive. He has traced him to this -neighbourhood," she added, her eyes attentive to every variation in -Ivar's countenance. - -"And here he may end his quest," said the viscount, "for Eric Marville -was shipwrecked off this coast and drowned many years ago. At least, -that is my father's statement," he added in some confusion, and looking -like a man who has been unwittingly betrayed into a rash statement. - -"What was the name of the vessel in which Eric Marville went down?" -asked Lorelie, speaking as if she had never before heard of it. - -"_The--The Idris_," returned the viscount, giving the name with obvious -reluctance. - -There was on Lorelie's face a smile that somehow made Ivar feel as if -he had walked into a net prepared for him. - -"And how long ago is it since this vessel was wrecked?" - -"Twenty-two years ago." - -"Twenty-two years ago," murmured Lorelie, with the air of one making a -mental calculation, "will take us back to 1876." - -"October the thirteenth, 1876, if you wish for the exact date." - -"And was it not on this same night of October the thirteenth, 1876, -that your father the earl walked into Ravenhall after a mysterious -absence of ten years?" - -"What of that?" - -"O nothing! Mere coincidence, of course. And so," continued Lorelie, -with a retrospective air, "and so the foundering of the yacht _Idris_ -is another of the little matters about which your father has conversed -with you. Strange that a peer of the realm should take such interest in -the fate of an escaped felon!" She paused, as if expecting Ivar to make -some reply, but he did not speak. "Well," she went on, "I will make -the confession that I, too, take an interest--a strong interest--in -this Eric Marville; nay, I will go so far as to say that to discover -what ultimately became of him is one of the objects that has led me to -Ormsby. And in pursuance of this object I have had the good fortune to -obtain from its present editor a copy of _The Ormsby Weekly Times_, -dated October 20th, 1876, in which paper there is given an account both -of the foundering of the yacht and also of the inquest upon the bodies -that were washed ashore. Now, as the coroner was unable to ascertain -either the name of the vessel, or the names of any of the men aboard, -is it not a little curious that the earl should know that the yacht was -called _Idris_, and that it carried on board one Eric Marville? How -comes your father to know more than could be elicited in the coroner's -court?" - -"Egad, you'd better ask him," returned Ivar sullenly. - -"Well, I must controvert your father on one point. Eric Marville was -_not_ drowned. I have proof that he was on shore at the time the yacht -sank." - -The viscount was obviously startled by this statement. - -"Oh! then what became of him?" - -"Have I not said that I am trying to find out?" - -"You've got a difficult task before you. No one has heard of him since -the night of the wreck." - -"No one has heard of him by the name Marville, of course. He would not -be likely to adhere to a name that would suggest reminiscences of the -felon from Valàgenêt. He perhaps resumed his old family name." - -"His old family name," repeated Ivar. "What is your reason for -supposing that Marville was not his true name?" - -"Because it does not appear among the list of names in the peerage." - -"The peerage?" - -"Do you not know that Marville claimed to be a peer of the realm?" - -The viscount smiled, but it was obvious that he was ill at ease. - -"Felon in Brittany; peer in Britain. A likely story that! Odd that the -detectives and journalists did not discover the fact at the time of his -trial." - -"It is odd, as you say, Ivar. He certainly kept his secret well. I do -not think he revealed it even to his wife." - -"Which proves his lack of a coronet. It is not likely that he would -conceal from his wife the fact that he was heir to a peerage." - -"He doubtless had his reasons. Having perhaps quarrelled with his -family he may have left England forever, determined to begin life anew -in another land, and to hide his identity under an assumed name. An -imperial archduke of Austria has done the like in our time, and so -successfully, too, as to baffle all endeavours to trace him." - -"And, pray, to what peerage did this Marville lay claim?" - -"I do not know." - -"Dormant, or _in esse_?" - -"I do not know." - -"What was its rank? A baronage: a viscountship: a----" - -"I do not know." - -Ivar seemed rather pleased than otherwise with Lorelie's want of -knowledge. - -"Where, when, and under what circumstances, then, did Eric Marville -claim to be a peer?" - -"So far as I am aware he referred to it but once, and then to no more -than one person, a French military officer, now dead. 'I am heir to a -peerage and could take my rank to-morrow, if I chose,' were his words." - -"And that's all the evidence you have?" - -"All the evidence I have, Ivar." - -"Marville was boasting, beyond a doubt. Does that fellow," he -continued, glancing at Idris' distant figure, "know of his father's -claim to a peerage?" - -"He has not the least inkling of it." - -"You'll act wisely by keeping the notion out of his pate." - -"Why so?" - -"It's one thing to claim a peerage, but quite another thing to prove -one's claim. Why fill the fellow with false hopes? Be guided by me, and -refrain from telling him of his father's pretensions." - -"Very well, Ivar," responded Lorelie, quietly, "I will be guided by -you. As your wife it is my duty to do nothing to the detriment of your -future interests." - -For a moment the two stared curiously at each other. - -"My interests?" muttered the viscount. "I don't understand you." - -"I think you do," she said gravely. "But," she added, rising to her -feet, "I am neglecting my visitors," and so saying she moved off in the -direction of Idris and Beatrice, who were slowly pacing to and fro on -one side of the lawn. - -"Not even the coronet to console me now!" she murmured darkly. "A -fitting punishment this for my long and guilty silence! Justice, -justice, now thy scourge is coming upon me!" - -Ivar did not follow his wife, but sat motionless for some moments, -staring after her in blank dismay, and completely confounded by the -startling hints that she had let fall. - -"Idris Marville not dead," he muttered, removing with his handkerchief -the cold moisture that glistened on his forehead. "That fellow he! -Living here at Ormsby--in the same house with Beatrice! And Lorelie -suspects! Suspects? She _knows_. By God! supposing she tells him! But, -bah! she will not--she dare not--declare it; she stands to lose too -much." He recalled her words to the effect that she would do nothing -detrimental to his interests. The meaning of this assurance was -obvious, and Ivar breathed more freely. "She'll keep the secret for her -own sake. She'll not be so mad as to cut her own throat. In marrying -her I've stopped her mouth. But if she had known as much a year ago as -she knows to-day----!" - -The smile had returned to Lorelie's lips by the time she reached Idris -and Beatrice, and at her invitation they repaired to the drawing-room. -Lord Walden, with a black feeling of hatred in his heart against both -his wife and Idris, slowly followed without speaking, and flung himself -on a distant ottoman as if desiring no companionship but his own. - -Idris, thus ignored by the viscount, could but ignore him in turn. -He had never beheld a more sullen and a more ungracious clown than -Lorelie's husband, and he much regretted that he had not followed his -first impulse to depart. - -The drawing-room was a handsome apartment, containing many evidences of -taste and wealth. Lorelie took a pride in pointing out her treasures. - -"My father," she remarked, observing Beatrice's eyes set upon a -portrait in oils representing a handsome man in the uniform of a French -military officer. - -Idris viewed with interest the likeness of the man who for about the -space of a minute had flashed across his childhood's days. - -"A man who will ever command my respect," he murmured, "since in -rescuing my father from prison he was forced by that act to become an -exile from his native land." - -An expression of pain passed over Lorelie's face. - -"Mr. Breakspear, you do not know what you are saying." - -"Forgive me. I promised never to allude to that event, and I am -breaking my word. I apologize." - -And he wondered, as he had often wondered, why reference to this -matter should trouble her. She had no cause to be ashamed of her -father's deed. Captain Rochefort's act in favour of a friend whom he -believed to be innocent was, from Idris' point of view, a gallant and -romantic enterprise, and in the judgment of most persons would deserve -condonation, if not approval. - -After the portrait of Captain Rochefort, what most interested Beatrice -was an antique vase standing upon the carved mantel. It was of gold, -set with precious stones, and the interior was concealed from view by a -tight-fitting lid. - -"What a pretty vase!" she said, and with Lorelie's sanction she lifted -it from the mantel. As she did so a cold tremor passed over her. She -placed the urn upon the table, and in a moment the feeling was gone. -She took up the vase again, and the unpleasant sensation returned. Was -this due to something exhaled from the interior of the urn? She drew a -deep breath through her nostrils, but failed to detect any odour. - -Puzzled and annoyed, Beatrice became morbidly curious to learn its -contents. - -"The lid fits very tightly," she said, addressing Lorelie. "How do you -remove it?" - -"It is secured by a hidden spring," replied the viscountess. "If you -can discover the secret, you will be doing me a favour, for I have -never been able to open it myself." - -"Then you do not know what treasure it may contain," smiled Beatrice. -"Attar of roses, spices from Arabia, pearls from the Orient, may lurk -within." She shook the urn, and a faint sound accompanied the movement. -"Listen! there is certainly something inside." - -"I am full of curiosity myself to know what it is," said Lorelie, "I -have spent hours in trying to discover the spring." - -"Then it is useless for me to try." - -But though Beatrice spoke thus, she nevertheless made the attempt, -toying with the vase and pressing various figures sculptured upon the -sides. All to no purpose. The jewels sparkled like wicked eyes, seeming -to mock her endeavours. The sound caused by the shaking of the urn -was like the collision of paper pellets, shavings of wood, or of some -other substance equally light. And all the time while handling the vase -Beatrice was conscious of a strange feeling of repulsion. What caused -it she could not tell: the fact was certain: the reason inexplicable. - -"Is this vase an heirloom?" she asked, desirous of learning whence -Lorelie had obtained it, and yet not liking to appear too curious. - -The viscountess hesitated a moment, evidently adverse to replying, and -then stooped over Beatrice and kissed her. - -"Will you think me discourteous, Beatrice, if--if I do not tell you how -I came by it?" - -While speaking she glanced aside at Ivar who, from his position on -the couch, was watching the scene with so perturbed an air that Idris -was led to believe there was some strange secret connected with this -vase--a secret known to both husband and wife. Great as was his love -for Lorelie, Idris was compelled to admit that she was very mysterious -in some of her ways. - -Then a strange thing happened. - -Idris, keenly attentive to all that was passing, observed a curious -expression stealing over Beatrice's face. Once before he had seen this -expression, namely, at the time when she gave her opinion on the piece -of steel taken from the Viking's skull. The pupils of her eyes were -contracted, and set with a bright fixity of gaze upon the jewelled urn. -The rigidity of her figure indicated a cataleptic state. - -Her lips parted, and in a voice strangely unlike her own, she said:-- - -"The ashes of the dead!" - -At this Lorelie gave a faint cry and drew away the vase, glancing again -at Ivar. Then, with her hands she closed the eyes of Beatrice, and -shook her gently. Beatrice opened her eyes again, and looked around -with the surprised air of one aroused suddenly from sleep. - -"Do you know what you have been saying?" Lorelie asked. - -"No--what?" - -"That this is a funereal urn." - -"Have I been self-hypnotized again?" - -"Again?" repeated Lorelie. "Do you often fall into this state?" - -"Occasionally--when gazing too long at some bright object: and then the -object seems to whisper its history to me, or rather, as Godfrey more -sensibly remarks, my mind begins to weave all kinds of fancies around -it." - -"Why, you must be a clairvoyante," said Lorelie, studying the other -intently. "'The ashes of the dead?' Yes, this may be a crematory vase. -What do you say, Ivar?" she added, turning to the viscount. - -"Of course Beatrice knows," was his reply, "for is she not a daughter -of the gods, a descendant of a Norse prophetess? But, Beatrice, I think -that the blood of Hilda the Alruna must have become so diluted during -the course of ten centuries that your claim to the hereditary gift of -intuition is a little laughable." - -"I am not aware of having made any such claim," replied Beatrice, -quietly. - -"And such claim, if made, would be justified," retorted Idris, roused -by Lord Walden's sneering air, "for Miss Ravengar has given me previous -proof of possessing remarkable intuitive powers." - -"Let us say no more on the matter," said Lorelie, gently. - -She restored the urn to its place on the mantelpiece, and, desirous of -removing the somewhat unpleasant impression created by the incident, -immediately started a conversation on other topics. - -The talk turned presently upon literature, and Idris, remembering that -Lorelie was an author, said:-- - -"Lady Walden, will you not give us a reading from your play?" - -"O, yes, do!" cried Beatrice, impulsively. - -Lorelie hesitated. The drama written by her had been a work of time and -patience: it was as near perfection as she would ever be able to bring -it: she had poured her noblest feelings into the work. But she knew -that what seems good to the author often seems bad to the critic: that -the thoughts, supposed to be original, prove to be merely echoes of -what others have said before in far better language: that the line that -separates eloquence from bombast is easily passable on the wrong side. - -These were the motives disposing Lorelie to keep her tragedy -to herself. The person who should have been the first to give -encouragement on this occasion was mute; for Ivar maintained an air of -indifference. - -"Deserves kicking," was Idris' secret comment, as he became conscious -of a suggestion of humiliation in Lorelie's manner, due to her -husband's want of appreciation. "And," he added to himself, "I should -very much like to do the kicking." - -Moved at last by the solicitations of her two visitors Lorelie produced -the manuscript of her play and prepared to read some portions of it. - -"This drama of mine, '_The Fatal Skull_'," she began, "derives its name -from the central incident in it--an incident of early Italian history. -Alboin, King of the Lombards, had become enamoured of Rosamond, the -beautiful daughter of Cunimund, King of the Gepids. Both father and -daughter, however, rejected the suit, for Lombards and Gepids had long -been at feud. Embassies having failed, Alboin resolved to attain his -object by force, and, accordingly, entered the territories of Cunimund -with an army. In the battle that followed, the Gepid king was slain, -his forces put to the rout, and his daughter Rosamond became the prize -and the reluctant bride of the conqueror Alboin." - -"How dreadful," murmured Beatrice, "to be compelled to marry the man -who had slain her father!" - -"The sequel is more dreadful," returned Lorelie. "The death of Cunimund -was not sufficient to satiate the hatred of Alboin; the skull of the -fallen king, fashioned into a drinking cup, became the most treasured -ornament of his sideboard. - -"Feasting one day with his companions-in-arms, Alboin called for -the skull of Cunimund. 'The cup of victory'--to quote the words of -Gibbon--'was accepted with horrid applause by the circle of the Lombard -chiefs. "Fill it again with wine," exclaimed the inhuman conqueror, -"fill it to the brim; carry this goblet to the queen, and request -in my name that she would rejoice with her father." In an agony of -grief and rage, Rosamond had strength to utter, "Let the will of my -lord be obeyed," and, touching it with her lips, pronounced a silent -imprecation that the insult should be washed away in the blood of -Alboin.'" - -"And did she kill her husband?" asked Beatrice. - -"Yes, with the help of his armour-bearer Helmichis." - -Having thus set forth the argument, Lorelie, unfolding her manuscript, -began to read certain scenes from her play. The reading of them was a -revelation both to Idris and Beatrice: there was a masculine vigour -in the lines: the thoughts were as noble as they were original, and -graced by many poetic images and by passages of exquisite beauty. - -Charmed by the melody of Lorelie's voice, charmed still more by the -lovely face set in a frame of dark hair, Idris sat entranced, with -something more than admiration in his eyes. And as Beatrice observed -his rapt attitude, his accelerated breathing, she trembled uneasily; -not for herself, but for Lorelie. In the near future, when the young -viscountess should have come to learn the worthlessness of her husband, -and to experience the misery of existence with him, would she have -sufficient strength and purity of soul to resist the temptation of -flying to the arms of Idris? Their meeting with each other was a -foolish playing with fire, and could have but one ending. Beatrice -ceased to listen to the reading of the play, and grew miserable with -her own thoughts. - -"Lady Walden," said Idris, when she had finished her recital, "your -drama is a work of real genius." - -His praise was sweeter to Lorelie than the praise of a thousand other -critics, and her cheek flushed with triumph. - -"You certainly ought to have it put upon the stage," he continued. - -"Yes," chimed in Ivar: for even _his_ sullen nature had been moved to -admiration: "you must not hide your light under a bushel. If one is a -genius, let the world know it." - -"If this play should ever be acted," said Lorelie, "then let _me_ take -the chief part in it. Who more fit to play the _rôle_ of Rosamond than -the creator of Rosamond?" - -"Well, whenever you desire to begin rehearsals," said Idris, jocularly, -"Miss Ravengar can supply you with one item of stage property in the -shape of a real skull." - -"But you would not drink from a real skull?" said Beatrice. - -"It would add to the effect," smiled Lorelie. - -"Drink from a real skull? Ah, how horrid!" exclaimed Beatrice. - -In reciting the words of the wronged and indignant Queen, Lorelie had -caught the genuine spirit of the character: and now, inspired by the -idea of becoming its exponent upon the stage, she rose to her feet, her -eyes sparkling as with the light of future triumph. - -As she stood upon the hearth in statuesque pose, she seemed to be -the very queen of tragedy, to be breathing, as it were, the air of -vengeance; a spirit so contrary to her usual sweet self that Idris did -not like to witness its assumption, however suitable it may have been -to the character of the fierce Rosamond. - -"I can see the eyes of the theatre riveted upon me," she murmured, -picturing to herself the future representation of her drama, "as I -enter the banqueting-hall of the Lombard chiefs, and advance to drink -from the fatal cup! How the audience will thrill as they watch! How -awful the silence as Rosamond places her lips to her father's skull!" - -She illustrated her words by taking the antique vase from the mantel -and going through the action of drinking from it, shuddering as she did -so; though whether her shudder was mere simulation, or a real thing -occasioned by the supposed nature of its contents was more than Idris -could tell. - -"And when the hour for vengeance came, I would rise to the height of -the occasion, and strike down Alboin--_so!_" - -Drawing from her hair a long and gleaming hairpin shaped like a -stiletto, she went through the motion of stabbing an imaginary figure. - -"'Die!'" she exclaimed, in an exultant tone, and quoting the words of -her play. "'This Rosamond sends.'" - -There was a weird roll of her glittering eyes as she flung out her left -hand tightly clenched: a swiftness and ferocity in the downward stroke -of the stiletto in her right, so suggestive of real murder that Idris -glanced at her feet, almost expecting to see a human figure lying there. - -Beatrice gave a cry of genuine terror. Ivar looked on with evident -admiration. - -For a few seconds Lorelie maintained a rigid bending pose, her eyes -dilated with terror, staring at the hearth as if she beheld something -there. Then, with a motion startling in its suddenness, she recovered -her erect attitude, and reeled backward with her lifted hand clenched -upon her brow. The stiletto dropped from her limp fingers, and the -peculiar ringing sound produced by its contact with the tiled hearth -was fresh in Idris' ears for many days afterwards. - -"'_A-a-ah!_'" she cried in a long-drawn thrilling sibilant whisper, -which, nevertheless, penetrated to every corner of the apartment, and -again quoting from her play. "'Ah! He moves! His eyes open! That look -of reproach! I dare not,'" she went on, gasping for breath, "'I dare -not strike again! Helmichis, do thou strike for me.'" - -With averted face she staggered back and dropped upon a couch, -apparently exhausted by real or simulated emotion. - -"Bravo! bravo!" cried Ivar, clapping his hands. "The divine Sarah -couldn't do it better. By heaven! we ought to have this play staged, -with you in the _rôle_ of Rosamond. You'd be the talk of London." - -As for Idris, the _diablerie_ of Lorelie's manner had given him a -sensation very much akin to horror. - -"What have I been witnessing?" he murmured. "A piece of acting merely, -or a reminiscence of a real tragedy?" - -Beatrice, deadly white, and with her eyes closed, lay back upon an -ottoman silent and motionless. - -"What do you say?" said Lorelie, coming quickly forward in response to -a remark from Idris. - -"I think Miss Ravengar has fainted," he repeated. - -"Egad! Lorelie," said Ivar, amused. "There's a tribute to your acting, -if you like." - -Lady Walden instantly busied herself in applying restoratives to the -swooning Beatrice. - -"I am sorry to have frightened you," she said in gentle tones to -Beatrice when the latter had recovered. "It was very absurd of me to -act so." - -But Lorelie's tenderness met with no response from Beatrice, whose eyes -were full of a wild haunting horror. She shrank from Lorelie's touch; -she avoided her glance; her whole manner showed that she was anxious -for nothing so much as to get away from her presence. - -"I--I think I'll go home now," she said, glancing at Idris. "Godfrey -will be waiting for us. We promised to return early." - -"The walk through the fresh air will do you good," remarked Idris, who -was himself desirous of withdrawing. - -It was in vain that Lorelie pressed her visitors to stay. Beatrice -declared that she must go, and within the space of a few minutes she -had taken a very abrupt leave of her hostess. - - * * * * * * - -That night Idris' sleep was broken by troubled dreams, in all of which -a woman's image mingled, always in the act of striking down some -shadowy foe; but the venue was changed from the elegant apartment at -The Cedars to the grey stone interior of Ormfell! - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -TOLD BY THE VASE - - -Next morning Idris strove to put aside the fear that had found -expression in his dreams, but the dark idea would persist in forcing -itself upon him. He grew angry with himself. Heavens! was he not master -of his own mind that he could not throw off this suspicion of the woman -whom he loved? Strange and mysterious Lorelie might be, but that she -was a taker of human life he found it impossible to believe. - -Doubtless it was true that a murder had taken place within Ormfell, -but that the crime had been wrought by a stiletto hairpin was merely a -conjecture on the part of Beatrice, who had no valid reason to offer in -support of her theory: yet, imbued with this fancy she was persistent -in maintaining that a woman must have been the author of the deed. - -Assuming it, however, to be a fact that the piece of steel was a -fragment of a hairpin, and the person who used it as an instrument of -death a woman, it did not follow because Lorelie had drawn a stiletto -pin from her hair in order to illustrate an assassination-scene in her -play, that he must identify her with the guilty woman. - -There was not only no evidence to connect Lorelie with the crime, but -much to prove the contrary. For instance, it requires a very long -period of time before a human body will become reduced to the state -of a skeleton such as that which Idris and Godfrey had found in the -interior of the ancient tumulus. - -But Lorelie's coming to Ormsby had taken place less than five months -ago. Therefore, unless the remains had been brought from elsewhere, she -could have had no hand in the crime. - -But had the remains been brought from elsewhere? and was Godfrey wrong -in limiting the scene of the murder to the interior of Ormfell? With a -sudden thrill of surprise and fear Idris recalled the reliquary brought -to Ravenhall by Ivar on the night of his return from the continent. The -story of the viscount's midnight visit to the vault had been told him -in confidence by Godfrey, and Idris therefore knew that this mysterious -visit had some connection with Lorelie's affairs. The meaning of it all -had completely puzzled the two friends; but now, while pondering over -Ivar's action, Idris felt a return of all his misgivings. - -Oblivious of the flight of time he remained on his pillow occupied in -gloomy thought, and when at last he did get up and go down-stairs, he -found that he must breakfast alone, for Beatrice was absent, having -left a message with the maid to the effect that she had gone to The -Cedars. - -The Cedars of all places! How came it that Beatrice, after having -evinced such fear of Lorelie on the previous evening, should repair -thither the next morning? Was it to tell Lorelie of her suspicions? to -warn her that the crime was known? to put her on her guard? - -Some such motive must have actuated her: so Idris, thinking that he -could not do better than imitate her example, set off himself in the -direction of The Cedars. - -On his arrival he learned from the maid who opened the door that -Beatrice was in the drawing-room with Lorelie. - -"Let me see them, please." - -Without ascertaining whether his presence would be acceptable to her -mistress, the girl ushered him into the drawing-room with the words, -"Mr. Breakspear, ma'amzelle," and there left him. - -Idris looked around. No one was visible, but from the other side of -the curtains that draped one end of the room came the sound of voices. -The maid in introducing him had pronounced his name so softly that -apparently those behind the portière were unaware of his presence. - -The two curtains forming the portière not being closely drawn left an -opening, through which Idris, as he went forward, caught a glimpse of a -small boudoir. Both Lorelie and Beatrice were there. - -On the point of addressing them, he was suddenly stopped in his purpose -by something odd in the appearance and attitude of each. - -Beatrice occupied a position at a low table, upon which stood the -vase that had attracted her curiosity on the previous day, the vase -containing "the ashes of the dead." - -She sat erect and silent, her hands resting on her lap, her face as -rigid as if sculptured from marble: her attitude gave an impression -that if pushed she would fall over like a dead weight. Her eyes were -set upon the glittering vase with a curious far-off expression in them, -as if observant of some scene a thousand miles away. - -Facing her a few paces off, with her eyes concentrating all their -brightness and force upon Beatrice's face, sat Lady Walden. It was -clear at a glance that she held Beatrice's mind and will completely -under her own control. - -"As I live," murmured Idris, "she has hypnotized Beatrice. She is going -to conduct some experiment with the vase." - -Having an honourable man's aversion to play the spy he was about to -make his presence known, when, suddenly, checked by some motive for -which he could not account, he determined to remain an unseen watcher. - -Lorelie rose and placed Beatrice's hands upon the vase, where they -rested, passive and limp. This movement was accompanied by a shiver on -the part of the medium. If the soul be capable of abstraction from the -body, Idris might have believed that Beatrice's soul had left her at -that moment to animate the vase, for the urn seemed to become instinct -with motion, and to sparkle with a new light. - -"Speak, Beatrice," said Lorelie in a solemn tone. "Speak from the -depth of this vase: listen to the voice of its quivering atoms: recall -from it the scenes and sounds of the past.--Tell me, what do you -feel--hear--see?" - -A hollow voice arose, a voice that sounded like a mockery of Beatrice's -tones: and although her lips moved, the words seemed to emanate, not -from her, but from the urn. - -"It is dark ... very dark ... nothing can be seen.... No sun ... no -stars ... no light.... All is cold ... and damp ... and still.... There -is no air ... or wind ... no life ... or motion.... It is like the -grave.... Above, beneath, on all sides, the earth presses.... Always -the earth around ... nothing but earth.... For ages and ages, deep down -in the ground." - -She repeated this last sentence several times. - -"For ages and ages, deep down in the ground." - -"What next?" asked Lorelie. - -"A sound ... faint ... far-off.... Now it comes nearer ... it is as -of a spade digging ... it is coming down ... down ... down.... The -earth above loosens ... disappears.... The blowing of fresh air ... -the gleam of daylight.... Now the blue sky looks down.... Lifted up -by strong hands to the glorious sunshine above.... It is the edge of -a pit.... Small pieces of gold mixed with earth lie about.... It is -spring-time.... The air is full of the sound of falling waters.... -There are green hills around, dark here and there with pines and -firs.... Above them snow shining in the sun.... There are men about -... digging ... men with deep blue eyes and flaxen hair.... They wear -close-fitting tunics.... Their legs are bare, crossed by thongs of -leather, ... They talk a strange language.... Now they stop digging ... -laugh ... and drink mead from ox-horns." - -Idris started, beginning to detect a glimmer of meaning in these -utterances, hitherto as dark as a Delphic oracle. - -"It is hot ... very hot.... There is a fire ... flames playing in -golden and ruddy hues on the rafters above.... Many pieces of metal -are stacked upon the shelves around.... Shields, spears, swords, all -newly-wrought, are lying about.... The clangour of the anvil arises.... -The red sparks fly around.... Men are moving to and fro, all busy.... -One is pouring molten metal into a clay mould.... It is liquid, glowing -gold.... He is casting a vase ... a funereal urn ... _this!_" - -Idris had heard something of the marvels of clairvoyance, but -clairvoyance like this fairly took his breath away. It was clear that -Beatrice was giving the whole history of the vase, from the time when -the metal composing it first issued from the earth in the shape of ore -in the old Norse fatherland! - -"It is a long, low, wooden hall. The lady is beautiful, with dark -eyes and raven hair. There are some maidens around. They are at -needlework. They have one long piece of cloth on their knees, and are -sewing different coloured threads into it. The lady directs them. Now -she moves towards the bed. There is some one lying on it, hidden by a -bearskin. At the head is the golden vase. The lady lifts the coverlet. -Beneath, there reposes a dead man, with yellow hair and beard. He lies -upon his shield, his spear and sword beside him. The lady falls across -the body weeping." - -This scene was clear enough to Idris' comprehension. The dark-haired -lady was the ancestress of Beatrice herself, Hilda the Alruna, mourning -the death of her husband, Orm the Viking: and the maidens were the -captive nuns who had wrought the figured tapestry that had decorated -the interior of Ormfell. - -"The maidens tremble as the stern-faced warriors enter the hall to -carry away the body of their chief. He is borne aloft to the place of -sepulture upon his brazen shield. The lady follows, clasping the urn to -her bosom." - -Beatrice paused for a moment, and then began another picture. - -"The green hill-tomb rises high in sunny air, and close by murmurs the -voice of the restless sea. The dead warrior is laid upon an altar of -wood. Many persons stand around. A fair-haired boy touches the pile -with a flaming torch. As he does so, a shout goes up to the sky." - -Though Beatrice's utterances were not marked by any rhythmic measure, -she nevertheless began to intone them to an air, which Idris -immediately recognized as the Ravengar Funeral March, the requiem that -had made so strange an impression upon him when played by Lorelie upon -the organ of St. Oswald's Church. - -"See the gleam of lifted lance and shield! Hark to the wailing of the -women, as they beat their breasts and rend their tresses for the death -of their great chief! List to the warriors, as they clash their brazen -bucklers with clanging sword-strokes! Now rises the wild barbaric song -of the long-haired scald, hymning to his harp the heroic deeds of the -dead, and chanting the dirge that shall never be forgotten by the -Raven-race. Upward mount the flames of the pyre. See how the maddened -raven, tied to the fagot with silken thread, flaps his wings and -screams with terror, pecking at the bond that holds him. The volumed -smoke hides him from view: the fire severs the thread: now he soars -heavenward, bearing the soul of the warrior to Valhalla. The fire burns -long, glowing in the breath of the breeze. Now it fades: glimmers: and -dies out. The lady draws near with the urn: within it are reverently -placed the ashes of the dead." - -Beatrice ceased her intonation, and continued in a quieter tone. - -"It is a square place, built of stone. Men are moving about. Some carry -torches. Others are decking the walls with tapestry, hanging it from a -metal rod. There is a stone receptacle in the centre. The dark-haired -lady places the urn within this, and retires. The lights vanish. All is -silence and darkness--silence and darkness." - -It was clear that Beatrice had been describing the incidents attending -the death and burial of Orm. Her account had cleared up one mystery. -The contents of the urn were nothing less than the ashes of the old -Viking, the ancestral dust from which Beatrice herself had sprung! This -completely answered the question as to what had become of his remains, -and furnished additional proof that the skeleton in the sarcophagus was -not that of Orm. - -But here a disquieting thought presented itself. Who had removed this -urn from the tomb in Ormfell, and in what way had Lorelie become -possessed of it? He dismissed the question for the moment in order to -listen to Beatrice who was speaking again. - -"Footsteps round about. Light shines through the interstices of the -tomb. Some one is speaking. It is the dark-haired lady. There is a man -with her. They take off the lid of the tomb and put in all kinds of -bright things--coins and rings: gold and silver ingots: cups, lamps, -precious stones, and the like. They sparkle in the light. The tomb is -full. They lay the rest on the floor. Now they steal away. The light -goes with them. Silence and darkness again." - -Thus far Beatrice's monologue had dealt with a period of history -distant by a thousand years, and had told Idris little that he did -not already know. Would she continue the story of the urn through the -succeeding centuries? Would she reach modern times, and speak of those -who had removed the treasure? would she describe the murder that had -taken place, and tell how the urn came to be in Lorelie's possession? - -Spellbound he waited for the sequel. If any one had told him that the -Viking's treasure was lying upon the roadway outside to be his own for -the mere trouble of walking thither, he would not have stirred from his -position. - -Beatrice had been silent for some time, when Lorelie, speaking in the -same tone of authority that she had used throughout, said:-- - -"What comes next?" - -"The dropping of moisture from the roof." - -"What next?" - -"Silence and darkness." - -Idris began to think that he was doomed to disappointment. Each scene -described by Beatrice had been followed by an interval, sometimes long, -sometimes short, apparently proportionate to the actual length of time -that had elapsed between each event. How many minutes were to serve -as a measure of the space that separated the age of Orm from the date -of the removal of the treasure? Not so many, he trusted, as to cause -Lorelie to bring her experiment to a close. - -"How much time is passing?" - -"Centuries--long centuries--centuries of silence and darkness." - -For a long time Beatrice continued to sit without speaking. At length, -to Idris' satisfaction, she resumed her monologue. - -"A muffled noise like a spade digging. The falling of earth. Some one -is going to enter." - -"Is this person the first to enter the hillock since the days of the -dark-haired lady?" - -"The very first.--Cool air blows down the passage, filling the chamber -with its freshness. It penetrates the chinks of the tomb." - -"Are there several men, or only one?" - -"One only." - -"What is he doing?" - -"He waits a long time at the entrance. Now he comes forward along the -passage. He carries a light: it gleams through the interstices of the -tomb. He walks about, his feet striking against pieces of metal. He -seems to be picking up some. Now, with a cry, he drops them. They ring -on the hard earth. There are fresh footsteps coming along the passage. -Coming quickly, too!" - -Beatrice's voice had lost some of its cold ring: she seemed to be less -of an automaton and more of a living woman, capable of being moved by -what she saw and heard. Idris did not fail to notice the change. It -was an agreeable change, but ominous for his hopes. She seemed to be -emerging from her trance: emerging, too, at a very significant point of -the story. - -He noticed, too, that Lorelie's interest had kept pace with his own: -there was on her face a look of painful anxiety that had been entirely -absent in the earlier stages of the experiment. - -"A second man has entered the place. There is a silence. They seem to -be standing still, looking at each other. Now they walk to and fro -speaking." - -"What do they say?" - -"Their voices are hushed! Ha! A sound like the tearing of cloth. -The dull thud as of a body falling to the earth. A gasp, and all is -still. The footsteps move about again. It seems as if only one man -is there. He comes slowly forward and approaches the tomb. He places -the light upon the floor. He is going to lift the lid. It is heavy. -He can scarcely move it. He pushes it aside with his hands. Ah!" she -exclaimed in a tone of disgust, "ah! his fingers are wet with blood. -Some drops fall into the tomb. Oh!" she gasped in the voice of one who -suddenly realizes an awful truth. "Oh! he is a murderer! He has killed -the other. He peers into the tomb. The lamp on the floor lights up his -face. I can see the sparkle of his eyes. _Oh! it is----_" - -In sheer horror Beatrice paused as if recognizing the visionary face. - -"What! You know him," cried Lorelie, wildly: and to Idris' mind there -was as much horror in her voice as in that of Beatrice. "You know him? -Who is it?" - -Instead of replying Beatrice tried to lift her hands as though their -removal from the vase would dissolve the terrible vision. Lorelie came -swiftly forward and stayed her action with an imperative gesture. - -Much as Idris felt the necessity for intervention, he refrained, for he -was as eager for the name as Lorelie herself. - -"You recognize him?" cried Lorelie. "Who is it? His name? Who has more -right to know it than I? Speak! God of heaven, I'll wrest the name -from you, though you were dying---- No! stop! silence!" she suddenly -exclaimed. "Do not say the name." - -Eager to learn the secret Idris had been incautiously pressing against -the silken portière, and even in the midst of her agitation, Lorelie -had seen the movement of the curtain. - -There was a moment's silence, and then she cried:-- - -"Who is there?" - -"A friend," replied Idris: and seeing that he was discovered he lifted -the curtain and entered the recess. "Let us have the name, and then----" - -"It was honourable of you to play the spy!" said Lorelie, coldly: and -Idris could not help feeling that he deserved the reproach. - -"Miss Ravengar," he said, stepping up to Beatrice and taking both her -hands in his own: "tell me whose face you see peering into the tomb." - -"A face peering into the tomb? I--I don't understand." - -Beatrice's voice had assumed its sweet natural ring. From her low seat -she looked up at Idris with the light of gladness in her eyes at seeing -him, a colour on her cheek at finding her hands clasped in his. - -For a moment he eyed her keenly, thinking that in order to shield -the guilty person she was going to deny the recognition. Then the -truth flashed upon him. She had emerged from her hypnotic trance. On -detecting his presence the viscountess by some quick sleight of hand -must have restored her to her normal state of mind. - -Beatrice's wondering eyes showed that she was entirely ignorant of the -story that had flowed from her lips. - -That story had accomplished one good end. She had spoken of the -assassin as a man, and a weight was lifted from Idris' mind. Thank -heaven, Lorelie was not the author of the deed! But a troubling thought -remained. Was she a friend of the assassin, an accessory after the -fact? If not, why was she so anxious to conceal his name? - -A question or two on the part of Idris elicited the fact that it was -Beatrice herself who had suggested the experiment with the vase. -Lorelie, who was versed in the art of hypnotism, had readily assented, -being as eager as Beatrice to learn its secret. - -And now that the experiment was over Beatrice looked from Lorelie to -Idris, and from Idris to Lorelie, wondering why each seemed so grave. - -"What have I been saying?" she asked. - -Lorelie turned to Idris. "How long have you been here?" - -"From the beginning of your experiment," he answered. - -"Then Beatrice shall learn the story from you." - -"But the story lacks completion. You left the experiment unfinished at -its most interesting point.--Lady Walden," continued Idris, gravely, -"you know now, if you did not know before, that a murder was committed -within the interior of Ormfell. Justice requires that the murderer -should be punished." - -"Go on," she murmured, as he paused. - -"That urn," he continued, pointing to the golden vase, "formed a part -of the treasure that led to the crime. Whoever gave you the urn was -either the assassin, or obtained it through the agency of the assassin." - -Idris paused again, and Lorelie herself uttered the question that was -in his mind. - -"And, therefore, you would learn the name of the giver?" - -Idris bowed. - -"Mr. Breakspear, you ask too much." - -"You desire to shield a murderer?" - -"That is nothing new--with me. I have been doing that for many years." - -No look could be more mournful than that accompanying her words. - -"You will not give me the name that was trembling upon the lips of Miss -Ravengar?" - -"I did not hear it," replied Lorelie, evasively. - -"But you have formed a suspicion?" - -"My suspicions might compromise the innocent, even as I myself have -been compromised," she added, with a reproachful glance at Beatrice. - -"Forgive me," murmured Beatrice, with drooping eyes. - -"Are we not all liable to error?" said Lorelie, kissing her tenderly. -"I commend your frankness in coming to state your suspicions, painful -though it was for me to listen. No; though fallen from what I might -be, I have not yet stooped to murder." And then, turning to Idris, she -said:-- - -"If I refuse your request I do so in order that I may not rashly accuse -the innocent. When I have verified my suspicions, you shall know the -truth: for, if I am not mistaken, no one will have more right to the -knowledge than yourself. And then," she added, with a melancholy smile, -"then it may be that you will find your desire for justice evaporating." - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -A PACKET OF OLD LETTERS - - -For more than an hour after the departure of Idris and Beatrice, -Lorelie remained where they had left her. She had sunk into a deep -reverie, which, judged by the expression of her face, was of a painful -character. - -"Whence did Ivar obtain that vase?" she murmured. "He has always -refused to tell. 'Take it, and ask no questions,' has always been his -answer. "'That urn,'" she continued, repeating Idris' words, "'formed -a part of the treasure that led to a murder. Whoever gave you the urn -was either the assassin, or obtained it through the agency of the -assassin.' Ivar gave it to me, but he was not the assassin. No! the -deed was wrought by the hand of one who escaped from the wreck of -the _Idris_. Let me read those letters again in the light of the new -knowledge acquired to-day." - -She rose, and from a drawer in a cabinet took a packet of letters. - -"What would Idris Breakspear give to read these!" she murmured. "But -the day is not far distant when I must put them into his hands; and -then," she faltered, "and then--how great will be his contempt for me!" - -Carrying the letters to the table she sat down and untied the thread -that bound them. - -The first one was written in a woman's hand; and the envelope -containing it bore the words, "To my daughter Lorelie." - -Madame Rochefort had, when dying, given this letter to Lorelie with -the injunction that it was not to be read till after its writer had -been laid in the grave. - -"Dearest Lorelie," it ran, "it may be that the disclosure contained -in this letter will cause you to view the memory of your mother with -feelings of shame, if not of contempt: but leave the judgment of my -conduct, or, if you should so term it, my sin, to that higher tribunal -before which I now stand, and be not too quick to condemn, since no -woman can rightly judge me unless she herself has stood in a similar -position to mine. - -"You will surmise by these words that I have some strange confession to -make, and such in truth is the case. - -"You, my daughter, in common with the rest of the world, have hitherto -regarded Eric Marville as a murderer, and your father, Noel Rochefort, -as a man of stainless honour. Learn now the truth that these opinions -must be reversed: it was your father, and not Eric Marville, that -murdered Henri Duchesne. And for twenty years I have kept this guilty -secret locked within my breast, shielding my husband's reputation to -the injury of another's. - -"Let me tell the tale, and that in as few words as possible, for it is -a melancholy reminiscence; why should I linger over it? - -"I married your father in 1869. - -"During the first year of our wedded life we lived at Nantes, your -father's regiment having been stationed there. - -"Our circle of friends included, besides others, the Englishman, -Eric Marville; and the Gascon, Henri Duchesne. The latter, some -years before, had been a suitor for my hand; and to my uneasiness I -discovered that though he himself was now married, he had not abandoned -his passion for me. I remained deaf to his advances. Thereupon his love -turned to hatred, and, desirous of evoking my husband's suspicion and -jealousy, he had the baseness to boast among his friends that he had -found in me an easy conquest. Though full of secret fury your father -hesitated to send a challenge, since Duchesne was deadly with pistol -and sword: to face him in duel was to face certain death. - -"Your father was a Corsican and took a Corsican's way of avenging -himself. - -"One memorable summer night I was sitting alone in the upper room of -our house, which overlooked the Place Graslin, awaiting the return -of your father from the Armorique Club. The hour was late. All was -quiet in the square below. I opened the window and looked out upon the -moonlit night. A footstep upon the pavement attracted my attention, -and stepping forwards I looked downwards over the rail of the veranda. -Henri Duchesne was standing below: he looked up, saw me, and kissed -his hand. At that moment, from the shadow of the doorway, there leaped -a man whose fingers immediately twined themselves around Duchesne's -throat. Though taken by surprise he instantly recovered himself, and -drew forth a dagger, the recent gift, as I afterwards learned, of Eric -Marville. - -"I tried to call for help, but found myself dumb with horror. Mutely I -leaned against the rail of the veranda watching the silent and savage -death-grapple taking place beneath my very feet. The dagger changed -hands: a swift stroke, and Duchesne lay stretched upon the pavement. - -"The whole affair did not last more than a minute. I recoiled from the -veranda, cold and trembling. Though I had not seen his face I knew only -too well who it was that had wrought the deed. - -"I staggered to a sofa and fainted. - -"When I awoke, your father was sitting beside me. - -"'It was a dream,' I murmured. - -"'It was no dream, Thérèse, but reality, nor do I regret the deed. He -sought your dishonour. He deserved to die. It was an act of justice.' - -"'Let us fly from Nantes before you are discovered,' I said. - -"'Unwise! Stationed here with my regiment, and living close to the -scene of the deed, I dare not fly. Suspicion would fall upon me at -once.' - -"Next day we heard that Eric Marville had been arrested for the murder. -'Have no fear on his account,' said your father to me. 'He did not -commit the deed: how, then, can they prove that he did?' The trial drew -nigh, and to my dismay I learned that I, as being present in the house -at the time of the murder, was cited to give evidence. Your father, -anticipating every kind of question that could be put, instructed me -what to say, and for many days continued drilling me in the answers -I was to give. When the time came for me to take my place in court I -stood up and swore an oath--heaven forgive the falsehood!--that I was -asleep at the time of the murder, and heard nothing whatever of the -scuffle. - -"The trial ended: the prisoner was found guilty, and condemned to the -guillotine. Never shall I forget Madame Marville's cry of agony when -the sentence was pronounced. How often in the dead of night have I -started from sleep with that cry ringing in my ears! - -"From the tribunal I returned home heart-broken by the black wickedness -of which I had been guilty. If Marville died, what was I but his -murderess? - -"'Noel,' I said, that same night, 'you will not let the innocent -suffer?' - -"'What would you have me do?' was his reply. 'Walk to the guillotine -instead of him? Upon my word, you are an affectionate wife!' - -"I shuddered, for he spoke truth. I could prove the innocence of Eric -Marville only at the price of Noel's death. - -"Was it for the wife to bring her husband to the guillotine? - -"How I preserved my reason at this time I do not know. It came -somewhat as a relief to learn that Marville's sentence was changed to -imprisonment for life. - -"'If you may not prove his innocence,' I said, 'there is one thing you -can do for him. Aid him to escape from prison to some far-off land, -where he may live in happiness with his wife and child.' - -"'Ah! I might do that,' your father replied. The notion seemed to -appeal to his spirit of daring and adventure. 'That's a devilish good -idea of yours, Thérèse. There would be a dash of excitement in it! -Only,' he added, gloomily, stopping in his walk, 'it will mean the -utter ruin of my career. It is whispered that the Ministry intend to -appoint me to the next Colonial Governorship. I should like to see the -fellow free, but his rescue must be left to others. It cannot be done -by me. I should have to escape with him, and become exiled from France -forever. No! no! it's impossible.' - -"But I would not let the idea sleep. I gave him no rest, continually -urging him to the work of rescue, even threatening to reveal the -truth in connection with the murder, till at last, wearied by my -importunities, he matured a plan for Marville's rescue. The result you -know. After an imprisonment of five years Eric Marville escaped from -Valàgenêt Prison, and was hurried on board the yacht _Nemesis_ that -was waiting for him in Quilaix Bay. Your father went with him; as a -law-breaker he could not remain in France. I would have accompanied -their flight, but the hour of your birth was drawing near. It had -been arranged, therefore, that I should join them at a later date. -Alas! I never set eyes upon your father again. He corresponded with -me at irregular intervals, but after a lapse of eighteen months his -letters ceased. The yacht in which he was cruising from place to place -foundered off the English coast, and I have no reason to believe that -he escaped a watery grave. - -"If thus certain of his death, why, you may ask, did I not immediately -make known the truth concerning the murder? - -"Fear for myself, love for you, were the motives prompting me to -concealment. - -"I was an accessory after the fact, a perjurer likewise, and therefore -amenable to the law. You were a babe of eighteen months, pretty -and charming, the light of my life. To proclaim the truth meant -imprisonment for me, separation from you; and withal, disgrace upon our -common name. I could not bear the thought of this, and, therefore, deaf -to the voice of justice, I continued to keep the truth hidden. - -"But now, assured by the physician that I have not many days to live, I -dare not die without making you the confidante of my guilty secret. - -"This letter, signed with my name, together with your father's -correspondence, which is contained in my private desk, will afford -sufficient evidence of the innocence of Eric Marville. - -"To you, then, my daughter, I leave the duty of clearing the memory -of an injured man, hoping that you will be brave enough to face the -consequent ignominy which must forever rest upon our name. - -"THÉRÈSE ROCHEFORT." - - -Lorelie laid down the letter with a sigh. - -"But I was not brave enough," she murmured. - -Her father, Noel Rochefort, was credited with having destroyed a -brilliant future by his chivalrous enterprise of rescuing from prison -a friend whom he deemed to be innocent: and, as the daughter of such, -Lorelie, wherever she went, found herself an object of interest and -sympathy, almost a heroine. Must she now proclaim that her father, the -supposed hero, was in reality a murderer, and one, too, so base that in -order to save his own neck he would have seen an innocent man, and his -friend, go to the guillotine? - -She was sixteen years of age at the time of her mother's death, and -lovely in face and figure; her friends flattered her vanity by averring -that with her beauty and accomplishments she might win the love of a -nobleman, or even of a prince! But what nobleman or prince would marry -the daughter of a felon? Therefore, she resolved to let the truth be -hidden. If Eric Marville were still living he was free; let him rejoice -in that fact: if dead, her attestation of his innocence would do him no -good. True, she knew that Marville had left a son, who must often have -felt shame at the stigma resting on his name. But this son would now -be twenty-three years of age; he had grown up, she cynically argued, -accustomed to the feeling, whereas in her case the knowledge had come -upon her with a sudden and overwhelming shock. She pictured the pitying -looks of her friends, the gibes of the malicious (for her beauty -had made for her many enemies), and she shrank from facing the new -situation. No: let the unknown Idris Marville bear the disgrace that of -right belonged to her. And when, a month or two later, she learned from -the newspapers that this same Idris Marville had perished in a fire at -Paris, she felt a sense of relief. - -But retribution was to follow! - -The day came when her life was in such danger that she must have -perished but for the providential help of a certain stranger; and when -that stranger proved to be none other than the Idris Marville whom she -was wronging by her guilty silence, her feeling of remorse was so great -that she was almost tempted to leap from the rock into the sea. To -withhold the truth was pain, yet to declare it would be to earn Idris' -contempt. Every kindly word, every pleasant look on his part, had gone -to her heart like so many thrusts of steel. - -The irony of fate! She had married Viscount Walden in the expectation -of succeeding to a coronet, and now the belief was gradually forming -in her mind that Idris was the rightful heir of Ravenhall: Beatrice -Ravengar, and not herself, was destined to be the Countess of Ormsby. - -O, if at the age of sixteen, and following the dictates of justice, -she had tried to find Idris Marville, and finding, had given him her -mother's written confession, how different her life might have been! -Idris would perhaps have been attracted by her then as he had been -seven years later. But now? She was united to a husband whom she felt -to be worthless: a husband who had ceased to care for her: a husband -whose title of right belonged to Idris. - -"I am justly punished," she murmured, bitterly. - -The remaining contents of the packet drawn by Lorelie from the -escritoire consisted of the correspondence mentioned by Madame -Rochefort in her inculpatory letter. - -Arranging these missives according to the order of time in which they -were written Lorelie took up the first, which dealt with the events -that followed upon the flight from Quilaix. - - - "The Pelayo Hotel, Pajares. - 25th April, 1875. - - "The newspapers will already have told you how admirably the - rescue was planned and carried out, so I need not dwell upon that - point. - - "There was, however, one awkward hitch in the arrangement--the - death of Mrs. Marville: but I am not to blame for _that_. Had Eric - listened to me it would not have happened; my intention was to - proceed direct to the yacht: he would turn aside to take his wife - with him: now he has no wife. - - "Eric Marville is free, and I hope you are satisfied. - - "The superscription of this letter will show you that we are no - longer on board the _Nemesis_. - - "'What is Pajares?' you may ask. A mere hamlet on the northern - slope of the Asturian Sierras, so high up as to be almost in the - clouds: and the building dignified with the name of hotel is but a - miserable log _posada_. - - "How we come to be here is soon told. - - "To fly from Quilaix to the open sea was an easy task: the - difficulty was to attain dry land again in safety; for, as - our romantic escapade would form the chief topic in all the - newspapers, it was pretty certain that at every port a watch would - be kept for our yacht. We feared putting into harbour. But land we - must--somewhere. We could not cruise forever on the open main. How - to land without detection was the problem. - - "Chance decided our course of action. We lay becalmed in a wild - rocky bay off the Asturian coast. Anchoring a mile from land we - swept the shore with the glass: there was neither village nor - human dwelling visible, not a living creature in sight. It was the - very spot for our purpose; and, as if to favour us still more, a - mist came on. Marville proposed that we should go ashore in the - boat, and get rid of the tell-tale yacht by scuttling it there and - then. I was compelled to agree to this plan, for I could devise - none better. It went to my heart to watch the beautiful _Nemesis_ - sinking out of sight forever, but it would have gone to my heart - still more to be captured by a French cruiser, and provided with a - cell at Valàgenêt. - - "Fortunately, the sea was as smooth as glass and the wind still - as we rowed off, otherwise enveloped in a fog on an ironbound - coast we might have fared ill. We ran the boat ashore in safety, - destroyed it immediately afterwards, and paid off our crew, who - were as glad as ourselves to be quit of the yacht, for they, - too, as fellow-conspirators in the rescue-plot, were amenable to - justice. - - "We dispersed: and since the crew went eastward, Marville and - I turned our faces westward, and walking all night as chance - directed, found ourselves at early dawn at Gijon, where we rested. - We assumed the character of pedestrian tourists. From Gijon we - moved on to Oviedo, and thence to the mountain-hamlet of Pajares, - where I write this. - - "I have found Marville far from being a pleasant companion: the - death of his wife has gloomed his spirits, and has poisoned the - pleasure he might otherwise derive from his newly-acquired freedom. - - "His talk, on the few occasions when he _does_ talk, turns mainly - upon that accident, and upon the look of horror which his boy gave - him. 'He will never want to see me again,' he mutters moodily. - - "I was not sorry when he proposed that we should part. He saw - that his gloom was an ill-match for my cheerful nature. With his - love of mountaineering he resolved to cross the sierras, and to - penetrate into Leon. He set off without a guide. From the door - of the _posada_ I watched him ascending the mountain-path, his - solitary black form outlined against the white snow. He dwindled - to a speck, and that was the last I saw of him. Shall we ever see - each other again? He forgot to make arrangements for a future - meeting, and I didn't remind him of the point. - - "He has done me irreparable injury. For him I have wrecked a - brilliant military career, lost a Colonial Governorship, and - made myself an exile forever from _la belle France_. Why should - I confess the deed to him? Haven't I made the fellow sufficient - atonement?" - - -Lorelie took up another letter, which was dated more than a twelvemonth -after the first. - - - "Hôtel d'Angleterre, - Salerno, - 10th May, 1876. - - "I verily believe that the continual mention of an absent evil has - the power of causing that evil to appear. In every one of your - letters you have alluded, despite my forbiddance, to Eric Marville - and his innocence. Your persistency in this respect seems to have - raised him up again from the things of the past--a past I was - beginning to forget. - - "You can guess what is coming. - - "I have met with Eric Marville. More than a year has passed since - I parted from him in the village inn of Pajares, hoping never more - to set eyes upon him: and now his disturbing presence is with me - again. 'Disturbing?' you say. Yes. You know the aphorism, 'We hate - those whom we have injured;' and I suppose I _have_ injured him: - you so often say it in your letters that I have come at last to - believe it. - - "What folly led me to Campania? I might have foreseen our meeting; - for, prior to the rescue, did not I transfer his banking account - under an assumed name to Messrs. Stradella, of Naples? - - "But to our meeting. - - "Yesterday I made an excursion to Paestum, and, fortunately, had - the place to myself. Not one tourist was there. Solitary and - charmed I wandered for a whole day among the magnificent ruins of - the past. - - "Amid the stillness of a lovely twilight I sat down at the base - of a marble column belonging to the Temple of Neptune. The whole - circle of the sky, from the wine-dark sea before me to the peaks - of the cypress-clad mountains behind, was flushed with the deep - violet hues to be seen only in this southern clime. - - "I smoked a cigar and drank in the pure air of peace. It was a - time disposing one to turn poet, monk, or somebody equally moral. - I had almost forgotten that night at Nantes. - - "Suddenly my eye caught sight of a shadow. I looked up; and there - was Eric Marville watching me with an expression that made me feel - uneasy, I could not tell why. - - "On seeing that I had noticed him he came forward. He did not - offer his hand, but smiled mysteriously, almost exultantly, so it - seemed to me, and took a seat opposite me on a fallen pillar. - - "At first we talked commonplaces. Presently he remarked: - - "'I am going yachting among the fiords of Norway. You must - accompany me.' - - "His manner implied that _he_ was master and _I_ servant! Why - should he desire me for his _compagnon de voyage_, seeing that, as - matters are at present, we are so unlike each other, he gloomy, I - gay? - - "'There is a fine yacht for sale at Naples. The price is moderate. - I propose that we divide it between us.' - - "Do you believe, Thérèse, that man is a free agent, with full - control over his own actions? Of course you answer 'Yes'; your - father-confessor has preached the doctrine a hundred times. I - answer 'No'! How, otherwise, can I account for my conduct? I hate - the fellow; I do not wish to go yachting; I have a presentiment - that ill will come of it. Nevertheless, I have given him my - promise. Explain _that_, if you can." - - - "The Hôtel Crocelle, Naples, - 2d June, 1876. - - "The transfer of the yacht is complete. It is as pretty a vessel - as one could desire. Over it my first open variance with Marville - arose. I say 'open,' because, secretly, we have been in a state of - hostility to each other since the day of our meeting at Paestum. - - "Marville was desirous of changing the name of our new-bought - yacht. I suggested _Lorelie_, after the little daughter whom I - trust one day to see; he wished it to be called _Idris_, after - _his_ child. The spin of a coin decided the point in his favour. - The crew are all English, and have given proof of it. When - Marville ordered the new name to be painted, they begged him not - to rechristen the vessel, declaring that to do so would bring - ill-luck. Marville treated their opinion with contempt. He rolled - up his shirt-sleeves, slung a plank over the side, and set to work - himself, painting the name _Idris_ as if to the manner born. Two - of the crew deserted in consequence. Strange that English sailors, - so bold in fight, should be so superstitious!" - - - "The Yacht _Idris_, Gibraltar, - 7th July, 1876. - - "Marville is a wretched companion. Twelve months of freedom ought - to have made him as bright and gay as in the old days, instead of - which he is the same melancholy being who left me at Pajares, with - only one topic of conversation--his unjust conviction. - - "You ask me whether I shall ever tell him that it was I who slew - Duchesne? You might as well ask me whether I want my throat cut at - once? That little affair at Nantes was the beginning of a train of - circumstances that ended in the death of his wife. He would hold - me primarily responsible for this last unlucky accident. Tell him - the true story! I would as soon tell the Minister of Justice, who - would at least see that I had a fair trial, whereas Marville, in - his present state of gloom, is incapable of listening to reason. - Yesterday, while toying with his knife at dinner, he muttered, 'I - would that the assassin of Duchesne were before me now!' You can - guess how I felt at those words. I am in a trying situation. Every - day I have to listen to a new theory accounting for the cause of - the murder, with remarks as to how an intelligent detective ought - to set to work. It is not enough for me to smoke in silence; - he wants to hear theories from _me_ on the matter, and becomes - angry because I have none to give. I wish to God he would talk of - something else besides the one everlasting theme! I feel that I - shall be betraying myself some day. - - "You remember the silver altar-ring engraved with runic letters, - the ring that he entrusted to my secret keeping on the morning of - his arrest? After his trial I handed the relic to his wife, but - scarcely knowing why, I made a copy of the runic inscription. This - copy happened to be among my papers on board the _Nemesis_, and, - believe me, when leaving the sinking yacht, Marville betrayed more - concern over this wretched piece of writing than over anything - else on board. - - "It seems that he has been studying my transcript during the past - year, trying to extract some meaning from it: and though failing - hitherto, he still perseveres. - - "He talks oddly at times, and I am beginning to believe that his - mind is unhinged. He declared to-day that he is the rightful heir - to a peerage, and could take his rank to-morrow if he chose. Of - course I believe this!" - - - "The Yacht _Idris_, Penzance, - 12th July, 1876. - - "If you perceive a difference in my penmanship ascribe it to my - trembling hand. I am in a state of nervous fear. The strangest, - the most inexplicable, the weirdest event of my life, happened - yesterday. I was cleansing my hands in a bowl of water. Marville - was standing beside me. Suddenly he observed in a very strange - tone, 'Do your hands always redden the water like that?' - - "I glance downwards. The water in the basin--believe me or not, as - you will--was as crimson as blood! My God! it looked for all the - world like the water in which I washed my hands that night! - - "I could see by the mirror that my face had turned as white as - chalk. My agitation was too obvious to escape Marville's notice. - He smiled strangely, and turned away. What does it mean? Can it be - that he suspects me of--_that_? I have not yet recovered from the - shock, though it happened twenty-four hours ago, nor have I washed - my hands since then. My God! if it should happen again! I never - expected to feel regret for the death of Duchesne; nevertheless, - I do. It has reduced me to a devilishly nervous state of mind. I - suppose moralists would say that I am suffering retribution. - - "One of the sailors declares that he heard me talking in my sleep. - I must keep my cabin-door locked at night. If I should babble of - _that_, and wake to find Marville sitting by my bedside with an - awful smile and with glassy eyes fixed on me!" - - - "The Yacht _Idris_, Trondheim, - 10th September, 1876. - - "I verily believe that Marville is mad! He pretends that he - has deciphered the runic inscription. It relates to the buried - treasure of an old Norse Viking--which treasure, he avers, still - exists in the spot where it was hidden, a thousand years ago, the - site being some point on the eastern coast of England. A short run - across the North Sea will bring us to the place. He is bent on - finding it. Is it not clear that he is mad? - - "Hitherto _I_ have taken charge of the yacht. Now _he_ has - assumed the command, heedless of my mild protests. The crew do - not like this change of masters. His seamanship is of the wildest - character. He delights to sport with reefs and eddies, with winds - and storms. Thank heaven! we are going no farther north, or he - would take a diabolical pleasure in steering us all into the - Maëlstrom in order to demonstrate how cleverly he could get us - out again. This may be all very well for him, who is in love with - death, but for my part I prefer to live. - - "He has exchanged his former melancholy mood for one of reckless - mirth. He drinks: talks loudly: laughs: and promises to divide - his imaginary treasure among the crew. 'To obtain it,' he says, - 'we shall have to penetrate to the chamber of the dead, for its - hiding-place is the tomb. But the ancient curse must be fulfilled; - and you,' he added, turning to me, 'shall be our Protesilaus.' - - "My classics have grown rusty. Who the devil was Protesilaus?" - - - "The Yacht _Idris_, Bergen, - 7th October, 1876. - - "I have discovered who Protesilaus was--a Greek hero who - sacrificed his life to procure the safety of his friends. - Curious! What does Marville mean by calling me Protesilaus? - - "A strange occurrence took place last night. A subdued wailing - was heard among the shrouds. The thick fog prevented us from - discovering the origin of the sound. Fear fell on the crew, and - none of them would ascend the rigging to ascertain the cause. They - muttered that it was a ghost, and that it foreboded ill to all on - board. Marville laughed at them for a pack of fools! Of course it - was nothing but the moaning of some seabird, but, for all that, in - my then state of mind it was sufficiently disquieting. - - "I retired to rest, but only to lie awake all night with that - eerie sound playing around the vessel. The sailors have lost all - cheerfulness, and believe themselves to be living on a doomed - ship. 'What vessel ever did well, after she was re-named?' asked - one. I confess that I myself am affected by the general gloom, - but when I expressed to Marville my intention of remaining at - Bergen till his return from the treasure-search, he cried, 'No, - no! you, of all persons, must not leave us.' Why not? I thought of - Protesilaus again. - - "The more I consider his moody watchful manner towards me of late, - the more convinced I grow that he suspects me of the killing of - Duchesne. He has lured me on board this yacht with the object of - torturing my conscience; by perpetually dwelling upon the crime he - hopes to entrap me into a confession. So far he has failed, but my - position is a terrible one. I feel intuitively that he is maturing - some scheme of vengeance. - - "'Why do I not escape?' you may ask. Impossible! The sailors, I - believe, have orders to watch me. If I go ashore he accompanies - me, ostensibly from friendship, in reality to keep guard over me. - His dreadful smile fascinates me, and chains me to him. I seem - to have lost all freedom of will and action, and to have fallen - completely under the spell of some weird being from another world. - I feel that ere long he will draw the secret from me. - - "When I behold my reflection in the glass I cannot refrain - from the thought, 'Can that be the once brilliant and handsome - Rochefort?' I look ten years older--grey, haggard. I should be - quite safe in returning to France, for no one would recognize me - now. - - "If there be a tribunal above to which one is responsible for the - deeds done on earth, I trust that the remorse I have suffered of - late will be taken into account." - - - "The Yacht _Idris_. In Ormsby Roads, - 13th October, 1876, 7 p.m. - - "We are anchored off the English coast in front of a little town - called Ormsby-on-Sea. To the right of the town and about a mile - from the shore rise the towers of some old castle, embowered in - a woodland vale, and forming a pretty feature in the landscape. - Marville seems to take a great interest in this edifice; all this - morning he has been studying it through the telescope. - - "'Haven't seen the place for ten years,' he muttered, 'wonder if - _he_ is still alive.' - - "I asked him the name of the place. A scowl was my only answer. - He hasn't improved in amiability since we left Bergen. In the - dictatorial spirit assumed by him of late he will not permit - any of us to land. He himself is going ashore for some purpose - which he refuses to disclose. He will not return to the yacht - till to-morrow. I am dispatching this letter to the post by - the sailor who is to row Marville ashore--a sailor whom I can - trust.--Farewell!" - - -"The last letter we ever received from him," murmured Lorelie, laying -down the missive. - -The tone of the final letters conveyed an impression terrible in its -suggestiveness to her mind now that by means of her hypnotic experiment -she had become aware of the tragedy that had taken place within the -interior of Ormfell. - -"The _Idris_ went down on the evening of October 13th," she murmured, -"and late that same night Olave Ravengar returned to Ravenhall after an -absence of ten years. Is this a coincidence, or is the present earl the -same person as Eric Marville? Did my father go down with the yacht, or -did he escape the sea only to fall within the interior of Ormfell by -the hand of the man whom he had wronged?" - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -LORELIE AT RAVENHALL - - -Lord Walden was reading a newspaper one afternoon in the quietude -of his own room at Ravenhall, when the step of some person entering -the chamber unannounced caused him to look up, and he found Lorelie -standing before him. - -"Hul-lo!" he muttered, throwing down the newspaper, and startled beyond -measure at seeing his wife so near his father's presence. "What brings -_you_ here?" - -"To claim my rights," she answered quietly. "Why should the wife occupy -a modest villa while the husband lives in castled state?" - -She took off her toque and mantle, threw them upon the table, and, with -the air of one who had come to stay, sat down in an armchair opposite -him. - -For some moments Ivar frowned darkly at his fair young wife, and was -obviously dismayed by her determination. - -When the earl, a few weeks previously, had urged upon him the necessity -for marrying Beatrice, Ivar had lacked the courage to confess that he -had a wife already, knowing that the statement would be certain to -evoke his father's anger, and Ivar stood in considerable awe of his -father. - -Accordingly, he had made a pretence of submission, and had gone so far -as to delude the earl with the fiction that he was paying successful -court to Beatrice. This contemptible subterfuge was not one that could -be long continued in any circumstances; but Lorelie's sudden resolve -for recognition threatened to bring matters to a climax that very day. - -"You have come here to create a vulgar scene before all the servants, I -see," scowled Ivar. - -"I have come here to redeem my name," she answered indignantly. "Do you -know that at the flower-show yesterday ladies turned aside to avoid me, -and that I caught the half-whispered words, 'Lord Walden's mistress'? -Do you wish me to return to The Cedars to live there under such a name? -I will keep silent no longer. To day all Ormsby shall know that I am -Viscountess Walden." - -Vainly did Ivar try to temporize, to persuade, to cajole, to threaten. -Lorelie continued inflexible. - -"Take me to your father," she said. "My maiden name will compel him to -acknowledge me." - -"What is there in the name of Rivière to charm him?" asked Ivar, in -surprise. - -"Nothing, but much in the name of Rochefort," she answered, rising to -her feet. "Will you go with me, or shall I go alone to inform him that -I have married a craven who lacks the spirit and courage to tell the -truth?" - -Ivar saw the necessity of yielding. Looking with a very ill grace at -his wife he touched a hand-bell on the table. - -"Where is the earl?" he asked of the footman, who appeared in answer to -the summons. - -"His lordship is taking the air on the western terrace," was the reply. - -The viscount rose and moved off in the direction of the said terrace -accompanied by his wife, while the footman stared curiously after them. - -Lorelie had come to Ravenhall for the purpose of verifying, if -possible, the strange suspicion she had of late begun to entertain -that the present Earl of Ormsby was none other than Eric Marville. If -this surmise were correct, it behoved her to make known to him the -truth concerning the murder of Duchesne. But of what avail was it to -clear the character of Eric Marville from the guilt of the long-past -crime, if her other suspicion should prove true that he was the slayer -of her father? She was precluded from denouncing him for this latter -deed by reason of her position as his daughter-in-law, and by the -thought that Captain Rochefort, in falling by the hand of the man whom -he had wronged, had met with a justly merited doom. - -If the earl were really Eric Marville, it followed that Idris, as his -elder son, was being unjustly deprived of his rights by the younger -half-brother Ivar. - -Ignorant of the causes that had contributed to render Idris an object -of aversion to the earl, Lorelie, nevertheless, determined to compel -the earl to acknowledge him. Thus much justice should at least be done. -And in coming to this resolve Lorelie tried to persuade herself that -she was actuated simply by the desire for justice, whereas her heart -more truly told her that secret love for Idris was her controlling -motive. - -On reaching the western terrace they found the earl standing at one end -of it with his back towards them. He had just come from the library -after a long spell of study, and was now refreshing his tired eyes -by a contemplation of the lawns and the woods that surrounded his -castellated mansion. - -On hearing footsteps he turned, and his cold grey eyes lighted upon -Lorelie: not, however, for the first time, since her pew in St. -Oswald's Church faced his own; but beyond the fact that she was called -Mademoiselle Rivière he knew nothing whatever respecting her, and, it -may be added, had no desire to know more. - -He supposed that Ivar had been showing her over his historic mansion, -portions of which were open to the public on certain days. But this -western terrace was private ground, reserved for the family. What did -Ivar mean by bringing this young lady to him, who had no desire for -an introduction? With something like a frown upon his face he awaited -their approach. - -Could this cold and dignified peer of the realm, thought Lorelie, be -the man who, twenty-three years before, had escaped from a felon's cell -in Brittany? Was this really the father of Idris? It seemed too strange -to be true. Was his the face that Beatrice in her hypnotic trance had -seen peering into the Viking's tomb? A chilling sensation seized her as -Ivar escorted her towards the presence of the man whom she believed to -be her father's murderer. - -Lord Ormsby was the first to speak. - -"Mademoiselle Rivière, I believe," he said, bowing stiffly. - -"Not so, my lord." - -"No?" queried the earl. - -"No!" she replied with a smile that annoyed him. As if it mattered to -him who she was! - -"Hum, some mistake. What name, then, may I ask----?" - -"Viscountess Walden, my lord," she replied, with an air as stately as -his own. - -For a few moments the earl's surprise was too great for words. He sank -upon a stone seat, and stared from one to the other. - -"You hear what this woman says," he remarked in a harsh voice, turning -to his son. "Is it true?" - -"We are married--yes," returned Ivar, sullenly. - -"You have given me to understand," continued the earl, "that you were -paying your addresses to Beatrice." - -"Father, listen to me," muttered Ivar. "I was already married at the -time when you pressed Beatrice's name upon me, and seeing how earnestly -you were set upon the match I--I lacked the courage to--to state the -truth." - -Lorelie heard her husband's words with secret contempt. The craven was -almost apologizing for marrying her! With an effort she controlled her -feelings, and remained silent. - -Casting a contemptuous glance at his son the earl turned, and with a -coldly critical eye surveyed his new daughter-in-law. Yes, she was -undeniably beautiful, with an exquisite taste in dress; and bore -herself with the air and dignity of a princess; clearly an ornament to -Ravenhall, provided only that her antecedents were above the criticism -of Society. - -"And who and whence is the lady that now bears Viscount Walden's name?" -he asked. - -"My name is Lorelie, _née_ Rochefort." - -"_Rochefort?_" repeated the earl, with a sharp intonation on the word. - -"I am the daughter of Captain Noel Rochefort, of Nantes." - -The earl's sudden start did not escape her attentive eyes. It seemed to -give confirmation to her suspicion. - -"Your lordship has perhaps heard of him? His is a notable name." - -"No. Yes. That is to say," replied the earl in some confusion, "unless -my memory is at fault, some one of that name figured prominently in the -French newspapers about twenty-three years ago. Did your father aid in -the escape of a certain prisoner from Valàgenêt?" - -"Your lordship has an excellent memory." - -"I was in Brittany at the time of the escape, and the story was in -everybody's mouth. The name of the prisoner was--was," pursued the -earl, with the air of one striving to recall a forgotten fact, "was -Eric Marville, I think." - -"I must again commend your lordship's memory." - -"Of what crime was this Marville found guilty?" - -"He was accused of murder." - -"Murder. Ay! so it was. I remember now," replied the earl with a -thoughtful air. - -Few could have surmised from his manner that in recalling the name of -Eric Marville he was, in reality, speaking of himself, and Lorelie -found herself in a state of doubt again. - -"Your father," continued the earl, "was a great friend of this -Marville, otherwise he would not have planned and carried out this -rescue-plot?" - -"We may presume that he was." - -The earl's conduct would certainly have seemed singular to an ordinary -by-stander. The lady before him was waiting for recognition as his -daughter-in-law, but neglecting that as a matter of no consequence, he -was interesting himself in events that had happened more than twenty -years before. Lorelie found her suspicion returning. - -"Do you know what ultimately became of this Marville--I mean of your -father, or rather of both of them?" - -"They went yachting together in '76, and their vessel went down in -Ormsby Race." - -"So near our own doors? Strange! Then this Marville was drowned?" - -"I have reason to believe that he was not." - -"Ay! and what is your reason?" - -"My lord, do _you_ ask that?" she answered with significant intonation. - -"I don't understand you." - -But he did not press for her meaning; Lorelie marked that. And there -was an interval of silence ere he resumed his catechism. - -"Your father, Captain Rochefort--was _he_ drowned?" - -"I have reasons--very strong reasons--for believing that he escaped the -fury of the sea, only to be murdered." - -While speaking she kept her gaze fixed upon the earl's face to mark -the effect of her words. Unless she was mistaken there was in his eyes -something very like the light of fear. - -"Murdered?" he said. "What leads you to this strange belief?" - -"With your lordship's permission I will reserve my reasons for another -time.--You have not yet said," she added quietly, "whether you -acknowledge me." - -"You are my son's wife, and, therefore, my daughter. Welcome to -Ravenhall!" - -Rising from his seat he approached and kissed her. And at this seal of -recognition Ivar heaved a sigh of relief. The trying ordeal was over, -and it had not ended, as he had fancied that it might, in his enforced -retirement from Ravenhall. - -When the earl touched Lorelie's cheek with his lips he found her skin -as cold as marble. She had submitted to the act, not knowing how to -repulse it; but--kissed by her father's murderer! To receive such a -kiss seemed to her mind like a condonation of the crime--a purchase of -her position at the price of her father's blood. - -She grew faint. Why was she placing herself in a position where day -by day she would encounter the presence of this terrible earl? for to -her he was terrible. A great longing came upon her to go back to The -Cedars; but the thought of Idris calmed her. For his sake she would -stay. Her belief that he was the rightful heir of Ravenhall was, after -all, a matter of conjecture, not of knowledge: she must have proofs -before telling him of her opinion: and, in her judgment, such proofs -would be found at Ravenhall. - -Hating herself for the hypocrisy she masked her feelings with a smile -and endeavoured to appear gratified with her new position. - -Learning that Lorelie had not yet seen the interior of Ravenhall the -earl, as if wishful to conciliate her, undertook to conduct her over -the mansion. - -He escorted his new daughter-in-law through the finer parts of the -castle, pointing out the various treasures contained within its walls: -but though he talked much during this tour of inspection Lorelie was -conscious all the time of being furtively scanned by him, as if he were -trying to fathom her character and aims: and the belief was borne in -upon her mind that she was the object of his suspicion and fear. - -He bade her select as her own whatever apartments might take her fancy, -and introduced her to the housekeeper, telling the latter that, as -regarded the domestic arrangements of Ravenhall, she must now receive -her orders from the new viscountess. Then, having rendered these -honours, the earl went back to his library with the remark that they -would meet again at dinner. - -"Egad, we're in luck's way!" exclaimed the delighted Ivar. "Who'd have -thought the old boy would prove so gracious? But why have you always -kept it a secret from me that you are Captain Rochefort's daughter?" He -gave Lorelie no time to reply, for, suddenly struck by a new thought, -he continued, "O, by the way, just a hint, lest you should unwittingly -betray a secret of mine. Don't let the governor ever know that I have -given you a golden vase." - -"Very well, Ivar. But may I ask your reason for this caution?" - -The viscount tugged the ends of his light moustache with a -shamefacedness very unusual in him. - -"Hum! ah! well! I suppose I had better speak the truth. The fact is -I've had to forestall my future heritage by appropriating some pieces -of the family plate." - -"Appropriating! That is a good word, Ivar." - -"Call it what you like. It was necessitated by the expense of keeping a -wife. Your tastes are costly. Pictures, works of art, rare furniture, -rich dresses are the breath of life to you. Deny it if you can. I -was obliged to resort to some expedient in order to satisfy your -extravagance. That vase was one of my--er--appropriations. I gave it to -you to convert into cash, but you seem to prefer keeping it." - -"And so the money you have given me during the past few months has come -from the sale of this plate?" - -Ivar nodded assent. - -"Was this plate contained in the jewel-room through which the earl has -just taken us?" - -"O, dear no! The store I refer to is far too valuable and tempting -to be exposed to the eyes of even the oldest and most trusted of -our family servants--at least, that's the governor's opinion. He is -somewhat eccentric, you know. So he keeps this treasure to himself in a -secret place." - -Lorelie did not ask Ivar to name this secret place: she had her own -opinion as to the locality, and would not have believed Ivar if he had -declared it to be elsewhere. - -"Your father inspects these treasures occasionally, I presume?" - -"Of course--with the joy of an old miser." - -"And he keeps a catalogue of them?" - -"You bet he does!" - -"Then how have you contrived to keep your appropriations undiscovered?" - -A look of low conceit and cunning overspread the face of the viscount. - -"Ah! that's my secret. The governor thinks he still possesses the -missing plate. It's there before his eyes, and yet it isn't there. He -sees it, and yet he doesn't see it. He's an artful fellow, the old -boy! But for once he's been outwitted. You don't understand. Some day -I'll explain my meaning. Meantime, remember, mum's the word on this -business." - -And here Ivar went off to inspect a new hunter that had just arrived, -while Lorelie turned away with a look of unspeakable horror in her eyes. - -"So the Viking's treasure found its way to Ravenhall," she murmured. -"And by whose hand it is clear. The price of my father's blood! My God! -to think that I have been living on money derived from such a source!" - -That same evening at sunset Lorelie sat alone on the grand terrace -overlooking the undulating landscape that surrounded Ravenhall. Behind -her rose the ivied mansion with its fine halls and treasures of art. -Roses, glowing in sculptured vases along the terrace, filled the air -with their sweetness. Marble fountains flashed aloft their silvery -spray. Below, in front of her, green lawns and woodlands stretched away -to the margin of a shimmering lake--all bathed in the dusky golden glow -of sunset. - -This day should have been one of the proudest of her life. She had -received recognition from the earl, and was now an acknowledged wife, a -peeress, and the destined queen of the county-side. - -While living at The Cedars she had been slighted by some of the society -of Ormsby, and had been cruelly traduced by others; how great, then, -would be the mortification of her enemies to learn that the person whom -they had contemned held the proud rank of Viscountess Walden! They -would be but too willing now to efface the past and do her homage; -for, to be on visiting terms at Ravenhall was the ambition of all the -_élite_ of Ormsby. What a triumph for her! Youth and beauty, rank and -wealth--all were hers! - -That was one side of the medal; how different the reverse! - -Her father was a murderer; her father-in-law was a murderer; her -husband was, in his own language, an "appropriator," or, in other -words, a thief: and she herself was but a spy at Ravenhall, seeking for -proofs to deprive him of his prospective wealth and title! Even now he -manifested indifference to her: what would be his feelings if, through -her instrumentality, Idris Breakspear should succeed to the coronet of -the Ravengars? - -Whether she spoke out, or whether she remained mute, a melancholy -future lay before her. On the one hand splendour purchased at the price -of injustice to Idris: on the other the lifelong hatred of her husband -for preferring the interests of Idris to his own. - -The voice of Ivar jarred upon her meditations. He was lounging along -the terrace smoking the inevitable cigarette. - -"My lady doesn't seem very happy now that she dwells 'in marble halls, -with vassals and serfs by her side.' Look around you," he continued, -with a sweep of his arm that took in the whole landscape. "As far as -you can see, north, east, south, and west, all is ours. Isn't the -prospect fair enough for you?" - -"As fair as the Dead Sea fruit--all ashes to the taste." - -She lifted her head, and he saw that her face was pale, that her eyes -were suffused with tears, that her expression was one of unutterable -melancholy. - -"Why the devil did you come here, if you don't like it? Upon my word -you are hard to please! Is this your gratitude to the pater for his -gracious reception of you!" - -"To be called 'Viscountess Walden,' and 'Your ladyship,'" she murmured -to herself, "knowing all the time that I am listening to a lie!" - -Ivar started, but made no reply. He lounged off to the end of the -terrace, where he stood watching his wife with a dark expression on his -face. - -"Got a fit of the blues on!" he muttered. "Thinking of Breakspear, and -how hard it is he should be kept from his own, and so forth. By God! -supposing she lets her craze for that fellow carry her to the extreme -of declaring the truth! She loves him, and a woman in love will commit -any folly. She's not to be trusted." - -While he was occupied with these uneasy reflections a footman appeared, -carrying on a silver salver a letter addressed to the viscount. - -Ivar gave a start when he perceived the handwriting on the envelope, -and ere opening it cast a glance at the distant Lorelie. - -The note was a sweet-scented one, signed "Lilias Winter," and contained -a request for a subscription to a local charity, at least so the -simple-minded would have read it, but to Ivar it conveyed a very -different meaning. Interpreted by a prearranged code the note signified -that on the part of the sender circumstances were favourable that night -for receiving a visit from the viscount. For Ivar, with a perversity of -taste, not uncommon in the immoral, found more pleasure in carrying on -an intrigue with a widow of forty than in cultivating the society of -his fair young wife. - -A few days previously, when ignorant of the existence of Idris, the -viscount would have laughed in Lorelie's face had she reproached him -with this amour. - -Now he suddenly became conscious that this intrigue was no laughing -matter. - -His succession to the title and estates depended on his wife's good -will. Any act on his part tending to provoke her might end in his -ruin. When the handsome widow, who had entertained hopes herself of -one day becoming Viscountess Walden, should learn of Ivar's marriage, -disappointment and jealousy might prompt her to reveal this amour -to Lorelie. And then----? Ill usage from her husband Lorelie might -tolerate, but infidelity, never! Goaded by such an outrage she would -fling his interests to the winds, and make it known that Idris was the -rightful heir of Ravenhall. - -"No help for it," muttered Ivar. "I must tell the governor at once, and -tell him all without disguise; that Idris Marville is not only alive, -but dwelling here to-day at Ormsby; that Lorelie suspects who he is, -and that Lilias will have to be bribed into silence, otherwise she will -create a scandal of which Lorelie will avail herself to our confusion -and ruin. Breakspear at present is ignorant of his lineage; something -must be done to prevent him from ever learning it--_but what?_" - - * * * * * * - -The lights in the library at Ravenhall burned till a late hour that -night, or rather they were continued till far into the morning. - -The sleep of the new viscountess in her distant bedchamber was fitful -and troubled, but there would have been no sleep at all for her could -she have known the character of the conversation taking place in the -library between the Ravengars, father and son. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -THE SECRET OF THE FUNERAL CRYPT - - -On the day following her recognition at Ravenhall Lorelie sat at -luncheon with the earl and the viscount. The servants had retired, -leaving them free to indulge in private conversation. - -"To my fair daughter-in-law," said the earl, touching his glass with -his lips and bowing to Lorelie, who returned the greeting but coldly. -The space of twenty-four hours had not reconciled her any the more to -his presence. - -"Do you know that old Lanfranc is dead?" remarked Ivar, addressing his -father. - -"No. Where did you learn that?" - -"Saw it just now in the obituary column of the _Times_." - -"May one ask who Lanfranc is?" said Lorelie. - -"Sir George Lanfranc," replied the earl, "is----" - -"Was," corrected Ivar. - -"Our family solicitor," continued the earl, with a frown--he hated to -be corrected--"and one of the privileged four admitted to the knowledge -of our secret funeral vault." - -"The other three being----?" queried Lorelie. - -"Ivar and I, as a matter of course: and the Rector of Ormsby." - -"I think I could name a fifth," murmured Lorelie to herself. - -For, on the day prior to her coming to Ravenhall she had chanced to -meet with Godfrey, and, moved by a sudden impulse, he had told her -how he had followed Ivar to the crypt and what had happened there, not -omitting Lord Walden's utterance that it was done on Lorelie's account. -The story was a complete revelation to her, and, while thanking Godfrey -for his communication, she determined to discover the meaning of the -strange affair with which Ivar had associated her name. A favourable -opportunity seemed now to present itself, and she resolved to essay a -bold stroke. - -"We shall have to choose some one to supply Lanfranc's place," said the -earl, turning to his son. - -"Permit me to offer myself," suggested Lorelie. - -Lord Ormsby raised his eyebrows in manifest surprise. - -"Ladies have never been admitted to that vault," he replied. "In that -respect it resembles the Baptist's Chapel in the Genoese Cathedral." - -"But that chapel _is_ open to ladies on one day in the year," replied -Lorelie. "Therefore, your parallel will not hold." - -"Are you really serious in making this suggestion?" asked the earl. - -"Perfectly." - -"What is your reason?" - -Lorelie shrugged her shoulders. - -"You don't require reason from a woman," she replied. "It would be hard -for me to give my reason. Curiosity, mainly: the desire of seeing what -no other woman has seen, or ever will see." - -"The initiated have to swear an oath to keep the secret," said Ivar. - -"That gives quite a romantic charm to the adventure," Lorelie replied. - -The earl sat silent for a moment as if weighing the matter, and then -cast at his son a look which seemed to convey a silent suggestion, a -suggestion that appeared to meet with tacit acceptance from the other. - -"There is really no reason why we should not admit you to the vault," -he remarked. "Better one of the family than an outsider. And you are -one of us now," he added with a sigh, as though the fact were much to -be regretted. "You shall be one of the privileged four, if you desire -it. When would you like to pay your first visit?" - -"Why not now?" she asked impulsively, rising from her seat as she spoke. - -"Humph!" replied the earl, thoughtfully. "Suppose we say to-night. The -late hour will enable us the better to escape the prying eyes of the -servants. You consent? Good! Then we will meet in this dining-hall a -little before twelve to-night. But--not a whisper of this to any one. -Let the matter be kept secret." - -Lorelie rose and sought the retirement of her own room, not without -wonder that the earl should accept her strange proposal almost as soon -as he heard it. Then, as she recalled the curious look he had cast at -Ivar, together with his injunction to observe secrecy respecting the -intended visit, there swept over her a sudden wave of cold feeling -induced by a thought so dreadful that she could scarcely bring herself -to entertain it. But the idea would persist in stamping itself in -letters of fire upon her mind. - -"I know he hates me!" she gasped. "I saw that in his eyes when he first -heard my name. I know he hates me, but--my God! to such an extent as -_that_! Is he afraid that the daughter will seek to avenge her father? -And will he get Ivar to consent?" - -While she was occupied with these terrible misgivings her husband came -slouching in. He seated himself on a chair and regarded her for a -moment with a strange expression that set her trembling. - -"So you've quite made up your mind to visit the vault?" - -She assented with a nod, not daring to trust herself to speak. Her -heart was beating like a steam-hammer; faint murmurs were ringing in -her ears; she seemed to see Ivar as through a mist. - -"Bah! you lack the courage. You will be crying off from the venture -before the night comes." - -His sneer roused her spirit, and she spoke in a low tone, striving to -control the tremors of her voice. - -"I will not cry off: no," she added, emphasizing her words, as if to -fix his attention, "not if it should end in my death." - -Ivar started and glanced suspiciously at her. - -Suddenly Lorelie rose, and walking to an oak-press produced a small -piece of faded black velvet fringed on one edge with silver lace. -Sitting down with needle and thread she proceeded with deft fingers to -manipulate this velvet into a sort of ornamental bow, without cutting -the fabric or in any way diminishing its original size. - -Her husband moodily watched her, wondering why she should form a -dress-ornament from such faded stuff and why she should select this -particular juncture for making it. - -"What's that thing you are making?" he asked in a sullen voice. - -"Merely a bow," she answered, extending the half-finished article -towards him. "Of what do you suppose this velvet once formed part?" - -"It might have been cut from a pall by the look of it." - -"I commend your discernment. You are not far wrong." - -"Perhaps you will enlighten me," he asked, scowling, as he noticed her -air of satisfaction at his perplexity. - -"It is not the first time you have seen this velvet and its parent -fabric," said Lorelie. - -Approaching a mirror she held the bow against the neck-band of her -dress. - -"I shall wear this bow to-night. True, it does not look very pretty, -yet it may serve as a talisman, and----" - -But on looking up she found that Ivar was gone. The velvet dropped to -the carpet, and she clasped her hands. - -"They mean it," she murmured. "I can read it in Ivar's guilty -manner--half-resolve, half-fear: letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I -would.' My God! But I will go through with it. I will put their base -courage to the test." - -Her first fears had vanished, leaving her hard and firm as steel. -The spirit that loves danger for its own sake, the spirit derived -from her Corsican ancestors, began to reawake in the breast of their -nineteenth-century descendant. - -At six in the evening Lorelie, who had spent the afternoon in arranging -her plan of action, stole quietly to her bedroom, having told the -butler she would not come down to dinner. - -"I must sleep," she murmured, "that my faculties may be fresh and -unimpaired for to-night's work." - -Her first care was to lock and bolt the door that opened upon the -corridor, and next that communicating with Ivar's bedroom. She paid -considerable attention to these doors, as well as to the fastenings of -the windows. A traveller putting up for the night at some lonely and -suspicious hostelry could not have shown more caution. Thus secured -from intrusion she laid herself down, dressed as she was, upon the bed. -But fully two hours elapsed ere she succeeded in falling asleep. - -When she awoke she found herself shivering with cold and in total -darkness. For a few moments she lay dreamily conscious that some -ordeal awaited her, but unable at first to recall what it was. Then -memory revived. The visit to the vault! Yes! that was it; and the -thought made her pulses quicken. - -She rose, procured a light, and found that it was close upon midnight. - -"So late! They will begin to think that I am not coming." - -Fastening the velvet bow to the neck-band of her dress she unlocked the -chamber-door and walked out into the corridor. A deep silence reigned -throughout the mansion, a silence that to her imagination had something -awesome in it. It seemed like the prelude to a tragedy. With a firm -step she descended the staircase and made her way to the dining-hall, -where a murmur of voices told her that the earl and Ivar were awaiting -her. - -Their conversation ceased upon her entrance, and both looked up, Ivar -seeming somewhat perturbed in spirit, the earl smiling and evidently -pleased that she had come. - -"We were just discussing the probability of your appearing," said he. -"Ivar was confident that you would cry off from the business. And, -certainly, a coffin-vault is not a very cheerful place." - -"It is not the dead one has to fear," replied Lorelie, "but the living." - -"Your wife has more courage than you gave her credit for, Ivar," -remarked the earl approvingly. "If you will carry the lamp I will give -her my arm." - -"Thank you," replied Lorelie, declining the proffered arm, "but I can -walk without aid." - -They set forward from the dining-hall, the earl going first, Ivar -a model of ill-grace walking beside Lorelie. He did not speak, but -glanced curiously at her from time to time. - -The expedition was so strange, so unlike anything she had ever known -before, that Lorelie began to wonder whether the whole scene was -not a dream. It was difficult to believe that the earl, so smiling -and courteous, could really entertain the black design of which she -suspected him. - -At the end of the Picture Gallery they reached that little lumber-room -which Godfrey Rothwell had so long hesitated to enter on that memorable -night when tracking Ivar to the vault. Making his way to the hearth the -earl stood in the wide space beneath the mantel, and lifting his hand -within the chimney he touched what Lorelie judged was a hidden spring, -for his action was immediately followed by a faint creaking of pulleys -and ropes, and then the perpendicular slab forming one side of the -fireplace began slowly to descend, revealing behind it an empty space. - -"The secret way to our crypt," remarked the earl. - -He passed through the entrance. Ivar, who had not spoken one word since -leaving the dining-hall, followed. Lorelie went last. - -She looked about her. The light carried by Ivar faintly illumined the -place. She was standing in a narrow passage, paved, walled, and roofed, -with stone. Its length could not be ascertained by the eye, for it -stretched away indefinitely in the gloom. - -The earl began to manipulate the machinery, and the stone slab slowly -ascended till its lower end rested upon the hearth again. Lorelie, -attentive to his action, grasped with quick eye the principle of the -mechanism. Such knowledge would be useful in the event of her having to -return alone. - -All communication with the outer world was now cut off. She was -completely at the mercy of the two men, and though this was only what -she had foreseen, yet none the less the sudden realization of the fact -caused a certain chilling of her high courage. - -The order of their march was now changed: they walked abreast: Lorelie -in the centre, the earl on her right, Ivar, still silent, on her left. - -Though apparently staring about with interest and curiosity Lorelie in -reality never took her eyes from the earl. It might have been simply -the effect of the flickering light, but in her opinion his face had -an exultant and sinister expression. She became more than ever on her -guard, and any sudden movement on his part caused her right hand to -seek her dress pocket in which a loaded revolver lay concealed. - -A steep descent of stone steps now yawned in front of them. With her -left hand Lorelie drew her dainty skirts around her, and glanced in -disgust at the black slimy ooze and the patches of fungous growth. - -"These stairs look slippery," she murmured. - -"A former lord of Ormsby broke his neck down these very steps," -remarked the earl. - -"I have no wish to imitate his feat," said Lorelie, drawing back a -little. "Do you go first. If I slip I shall be but a light weight, -whereas if you should fall upon me," she added, with a shrug of her -shoulders, "there is no knowing what might happen." - -The earl gave her a suspicious look as if detecting a hidden meaning -in her words: then, compliant with her wish, he led the way down the -steps. Lorelie came last, feeling more at ease in being at the rear. - -The stairs terminated in the flagged flooring of another long passage, -at the end of which was the crypt. - -As Lorelie entered she could not repress a shiver, the atmosphere of -the place striking her senses with a damp chilling effect. - -Ivar, by aid of the light he had carried, proceeded to kindle the lamp -pendent from the roof, and every object in the chamber became clearly -visible. - -At a glance Lorelie took in the whole scene--the octagonal crypt, the -black velvet curtains draping the alcoves, the massive oak table, -and the four antique carved chairs: everything just as Godfrey had -described it. - -As her eye fell upon the silver lace edging the lower end of a curtain -adjacent to the door, her face expressed satisfaction, a satisfaction -that became instantly lost in a very different feeling: for there, -on the floor by one of the alcoves, was a chest of cypress wood, an -object she readily identified as the reliquary that had figured so -conspicuously in Godfrey's narration. The lid stood erect and she -noticed that the contents consisted of a whitish powder. - -"_Quicklime!_" she murmured with a cold thrill. - -Becoming doubly vigilant she sat down in one of the chairs and prepared -herself for emergencies. - -On the table stood a decanter partly filled with wine, and beside it -some glasses. Observant of everything Lorelie saw that though the -smooth surface of the table was overlaid with a coating of dust, the -display of glass exhibited not a trace of it; evidently the wine was of -recent introduction--perhaps placed there specially for her use. - -"What! you have wine here? Pour me out a glass, Ivar." - -Speaking in the tone of a woman who suspects nothing she reclined in -her seat in a graceful attitude, extending a glass towards Ivar, and -watching him keenly from beneath the lashes of her half-closed eyes. -Her husband, his face as white as a ghost's, filled her glass, and -setting down the decanter, breathed hard. The earl looked on with -seeming indifference. - -With steady motion Lorelie lifted the glass, taking a longer time over -the action than was necessary, as if even the foretaste of drinking -were a pleasure not to be curtailed. Ivar was watching her with an -expression the like of which she had never before seen on his face. - -Her lips touched the edge of the glass, and there rested a moment: and -then, without having tasted the wine, she raised the glass and held -it between her half-closed eyes and the lamp above, an action that -displayed to the full the beauty of her rounded arm and bust. - -"How bright and clear it is!" she murmured, in a softly modulated -voice. "By the way," she added, suddenly opening her eyes wide, "what -wine do you call this?" - -"A choice vintage. Malvazia, one of the rarest of the Madeiras," -replied the earl. - -Lorelie lowered the glass quickly, in real or feigned disappointment. - -"_O-oh!_" she murmured, pouting. "A pity--that! I cannot bear Malvazia: -it always gives me the headache. I must refrain from drinking.--And -yet," she added, inhaling the fragrance, "the bouquet is tempting." - -She toyed a moment or two with the glass, as if about to drink, but -finally set it down upon the table, glancing at the two men with a -silvery laugh. Her radiant air contrasted strangely with the sombre -spirit which seemed to enwrap both of them. - -"This is a very pretty chamber," she said, poising her head upon her -hands, and affecting to survey the crypt with interest. "Nothing very -terrible about it, after all. I might have spared myself the letter to -Dr. Rothwell." - -"What is that?" said the earl, with a quick nervous start. - -"_Peccavi!_ I have done very wrong, I admit," said Lorelie, with a -sweet smile. "I have ventured to disobey your command that I should -tell nobody of this, our midnight adventure: for, as one never knows -what may happen when visiting the haunts of the dead, I could not -refrain from communicating with Dr. Rothwell on the matter. He is aware -of this visit of ours to the crypt. Commend my wisdom, my lord, in thus -taking precautions to secure our safe return." - -Never did human countenance change so quickly as did that of the earl -at these words. He glanced at Ivar. Dismay was reflected in the eyes of -each. - -"Here is the note I received from him this afternoon," continued -Lorelie imperturbably, drawing forth the communication and tossing it -carelessly upon the table. "You observe his words. 'Dear Lady Walden, I -give you my promise that if I do not meet you at the porch of Ravenhall -to-morrow morning at eight, I will come and seek you in the vault." - -"He would have some trouble in finding it," sneered the earl. - -"Not at all. Dr. Rothwell knows his way to this crypt as well as you or -Ivar. He made a secret visit here on April the tenth of this year, the -night on which Ivar returned home from the continent." - -"Godfrey _was_ at Ravenhall that night," muttered the viscount uneasily. - -"He was here--in this vault, I repeat, at three in the morning. And -the scene he witnessed was past belief. It would do you good, Ivar, to -listen to his story. It would really interest you; you, perhaps, more -than any other person." - -It is no exaggeration to say that at these words Ivar became green -with fear. He turned his head from the earl in order to conceal his -agitation. The secret which he had believed to be locked within his own -breast was known to others--was being hinted at in the presence of his -father, the very person from whom he most desired to conceal it. How -much did Lorelie know? What would she be saying next? Words, perhaps, -that would bring him to ruin. - -"Ivar, I see, is persuaded of the truth of my statement. You are more -sceptical, my lord, but you shall be convinced." - -She detached the velvet bow from her neckband and flung it lightly -beside Godfrey's note. - -"Cut the threads of that; unfold the velvet, and you will find that -its shape corresponds exactly with the little rent at the foot of that -curtain. It was Dr. Rothwell who cut off this piece of velvet, bringing -it away with him to prove--if proof should ever be required--that he -has stood in the secret crypt of the Ravengars. Do you still doubt me, -my lord, or do you require further proof?" - -On the contrary he was so certain of the truth of her words that he did -not attempt to verify them, but stood, fingering the velvet bow with a -dark expression of countenance. - -Looking upon Lorelie as an enemy to be silenced at all costs he had -brought her to this vault intending that she should never leave it. -Ivar was a reluctant accomplice, his reluctance arising not from any -conscientious scruples, but from the dangerous consequences attending -the commission of such a deed. The disappearance of the new viscountess -on the second day of her coming to Ravenhall would be an event that -could not fail to bring suspicion and inquiry in its train. - -Lorelie had divined their plot, and having taken steps for its -frustration, had fearlessly accompanied them to the destined scene of -her death. And here she was, a slender, fragile woman, in a lonely -situation, with no one to hear her cry for help, in the presence of -two men desirous of her death, and yet, thanks to her forethought, as -safe as if attended by an armed escort. - -Her calm air, her radiant beauty, added fuel to the earl's secret -rage. If he had followed his first impulse he would have seized her -in his arms and twining his fingers around her throat have silenced -her forever. But prudence compelled him to refrain from violence. The -thought of having to face on the morrow the stern inquiring eyes of -Godfrey acted as a potent check. - -Fortunately for himself he had not proceeded to the length of openly -avowing his awful purpose: he was therefore free to deny it, if she had -any suspicion, as he was strongly disposed to believe that she had. -Besides, what mattered her suspicion? She had no real proof to offer -the world. Opposed to her single testimony was the joint testimony of -himself and her husband. - -He began to breathe freely again. The matter might yet end well as -regarded his own safety--the only consideration that troubled him. - -Lorelie, knowing the cause of his mortification, sat at ease in her -chair, secretly enjoying her triumph. - -At last, feigning to be angry, she exclaimed:-- - -"How silent you are! Are you going to let me depart from this vault -without enlightening me as to its mysteries? Come, Ivar, play the part -of cicerone. Draw aside the curtain from each alcove, and give me -the names and biographies of the coffined dead. I am in an historic -genealogic mood." - -Ivar, not knowing whether to obey, glanced irresolutely at his father. - -"Gratify the curious fool," the earl muttered moodily. - -With an ill grace at having to obey the wife whom he hated, and -troubled by a secret foreboding that his guilty secret was about to -transpire, Ivar approached the alcove nearest the door, and, lifting -the velvet drapery, disclosed a deep recess, the walls of which were -pierced with niches containing coffins. - -"This," he remarked sullenly, touching one, "is the coffin of Lancelot -Ravengar, the first earl of Ormsby." - -And so he proceeded from one alcove to another, giving the names of the -dead peers, his amiability not improved by the caustic remarks made by -Lorelie. - -"A dull catalogue of nonentities, unknown to fame," she said, when Ivar -had finished his recital. "But I observed that you entirely passed -over the fourth alcove. Why? Raise the curtain and let me see what it -contains." - -With manifest reluctance the viscount lifted the drapery, revealing in -the alcove a coffin on trestles. - -"This is the coffin of Urien Ravengar, my grandfather." - -"In saying that, you of course mean simply that that is the name on the -plate." - -"That coffin," broke in the earl in a harsh voice, "contains the body -of my father, Urien Ravengar." - -"I do not think so," replied Lorelie quietly. - -In a blaze of wrath the earl turned suddenly upon Ivar. - -"Fool! what have you been telling this woman?" - -"I? Nothing!" replied the viscount, shrinking back. And seeing -disbelief expressed on his father's face, he added, "Ask her: if she -speak truth she will tell you that nothing relating to this coffin has -passed my lips." - -"Then how--how?" began the earl: then, breaking off abruptly, he turned -to Lorelie with the question: "Tell me, then, what this coffin does -contain?" - -"That is what I wish to learn," she replied coolly. "It is my chief -reason for visiting this vault." - -"You will remain in ignorance." - -"I shall depart enlightened. Was it not from that coffin, Ivar," she -said, turning to him, "that you took the golden vase you gave me some -time ago?" - -She was drawing a bow at a venture, but the arrow found its mark. The -sweat glistened on Ivar's forehead. He betrayed all the confusion of a -guilty person. His father eyed him suspiciously. - -"A golden vase!" he exclaimed with a bitter smile. "Ivar, I must look -into that coffin!" - -Thus speaking he made his way to the alcove where the viscount was -standing. Moved by curiosity Lorelie also drew near. - -"Take the screwdriver, and remove the lid," said Lord Ormsby in a stern -voice. - -Sullenly and mutely Ivar proceeded to do his father's bidding. - -No one spoke, and nothing disturbed the stillness save the crisp -revolution of the screwdriver. With folded arms and compressed lips the -earl stood looking on, an expression on his face that boded ill for his -son should he find his suspicion verified. - -The last screw was loosed, and as Ivar raised the lid Lorelie's eyes -instantly closed, dazzled by a thousand rays of many-coloured light, -shooting up in all directions from the coffin, like bright spirits -rejoicing to be free. - -Putting up her hand to shield her sight from the radiance she -endeavoured to obtain a clear idea of what was before her. - -The coffin, of more than ordinary size, was a veritable treasure-chest, -filled to the lid with plate and precious stones, the latter forming by -far the larger part of the contents. - -Forgetful of her aversion to the earl, forgetful of her recent peril, -forgetful of everything but the sight before her, Lorelie stood -with parted lips and dilated eyes, spellbound by the glittering -array of wealth. Her knowledge of art taught her that the antiquity -and workmanship of the ornaments far exceeded the intrinsic value -of the materials composing them. There was a crucifix, formed from -one entire piece of amber, the plunder of some Saxon monastery: an -ivory drinking-horn, engraved with runic letters, that spoke of the -old Norseland: a golden lamp, inscribed with a verse from the Koran, -a relic of Moorish rule in Spain: rare coins, that had found their -way from the Byzantine treasury. Every part of mediæval Europe had -apparently contributed some memorial to this store. - -But, as previously stated, the quantity of plate was small in -comparison with the gems. It was these that riveted Lorelie's -attention. Never in any collection of crown-jewels had she seen the -equal of these stones for variety and size, for brilliance and beauty. -The richest caliph of the East might have envied the possessor of such -a store. It suggested a dream of the "Arabian Nights." - -"Ah! you may well gaze!" cried the earl to Lorelie, in a fierce -exultant tone. "Find me the man in Britain who owns such wealth as -this! Take every object out of the coffin," he continued, addressing -Ivar. "Lay each and all upon the table. Let Lady Walden handle them -that she may realize the wealthy match she has made." - -Lorelie quite understood the earl's motive in making this display. -Since he could not get rid of her, his only other policy was to -conciliate her. She smiled disdainfully to herself. It was not to her -interest, however, to quarrel with him at present: she must simulate -friendly relations till the purpose for which she had come to Ravenhall -should be accomplished. - -"Yes, let me see everything," she said in seeming eagerness. - -Drawing the table to the entrance of the alcove Ivar proceeded to empty -the coffin of its contents. During this operation Lorelie's surprise -rose almost to fever-heat at sight of some of the objects drawn forth. - -When the coffin had been emptied, the earl produced a pocketbook -containing a list of the treasures. - -"'Article 1,'" he read out. "'Ancient Norse funereal urn, of pure gold, -set with opals.'" - -The viscount handed a vase to his father. - -"Safe, I see," said the earl. "I have been unjust to you in thought, -Ivar," he continued, apologetically. "When your wife spoke of a golden -vase given her by you, my thoughts associated themselves with this. I -acknowledge my error." - -Ivar cast an anxious look at Lorelie, dreading lest her words should -lead to the betrayal of his secret. But Lorelie said nothing, though in -a state of extreme amazement and perplexity: for the jewelled vessel -now in the earl's hands seemed to be the very vase given to her by Ivar -some weeks previously--the vase that had played so important a part in -her hypnotic experiment with Beatrice. - -On coming to Ravenhall Lorelie had left it behind her at The Cedars: -how came it to be here in the vault of the Ravengars? Was it a replica? -If so, it was certainly a marvellous imitation of the original, since -she could detect no points of difference. - -"Observe the lustre of the opals," said the earl, his eyes gleaming -with pleasure; and Lorelie perceived that his love of study, great -though it might be, had not quenched in him the passion of avarice. "An -interesting and precious relic of Norse antiquity, this!" continued the -earl, tapping the urn affectionately. "It contains the ashes of Draco -the Golden, the founder of our family. From the grey dust within this -urn all we Ravengars have sprung." - -The vase at The Cedars also held the remains of the same Viking, if the -story told by Beatrice in her hypnotic trance was to be relied upon. -The supposition that the ashes of Orm had been divided between two urns -seemed absurd: and yet how otherwise was this mystery to be explained, -unless indeed Ivar, unknown to her, had paid a visit to The Cedars, -and having obtained the vase, had restored it to the place whence he -had originally taken it. Unlikely as this last hypothesis might be, it -seemed the only one capable of meeting the requirements of the case. - -The earl, having carefully deposited the urn in one corner of the -coffin, referred again to his catalogue. - -"'Article 2. Norse altar-ring of pure silver, inscribed with runic -characters.' Yes, this is it," he continued, receiving the article from -Ivar's hand. "The ring of Odin, that figures in our armorial shield. -Many a legend of blood clings to this relic. What a history it could -unfold, were it but endowed with speech!" - -The golden vase had puzzled Lorelie, but this silver relic puzzled -her still more. She did not doubt that the object before her was the -identical ring, the non-production of which at the trial of Eric -Marville, was one of the points that had told against him. She knew -the story of its theft from Mrs. Breakspear, and, like Idris, knew -not whither it had vanished. Now, after all these years, it thus -reappeared! By what circuitous route, through how many bloodstained -hands, had it passed before regaining its ancient abode? - -Mechanically she took the ring from the earl's hand. If this were -indeed the very relic, there should be a black mark upon the inner -perimeter of the ring. Upon examining it, however, she could discover -no stain at all: the metal band was bright and unsullied. - -Was this ring, like the vase, a replica: or was there truth in the -ancient legend that the bloodstain would vanish when some one should -meet with a violent end as an atonement for the slaying of the Norse -herald? Certain it was that a death _had_ occurred in connection with -the finding of the treasure. - -With a bewildered air she handed back the ring to the earl, who placed -it within the coffin beside the vase, and turned again to his list. - -"'Article 3. A sapphire drinking-cup. Weight'--ah! look at this!" he -cried, breaking off from his reading in an ecstasy of delight. "Look at -it! Handle it! Admire it! Can the Dresden Gallery produce its like?" - -A low and prolonged cry of admiration flowed from Lorelie's lips. The -object handed to her by the earl was a miniature goblet, the tiny bowl, -stem, and stand being delicately sculptured from one entire sapphire. -It was a work of art, as well as a splendid gem. With the delight of -a child over a new toy Lorelie raised the gleaming brilliant aloft, -placing it between her eye and the light in order to mark its lovely -azure transparency. Its beauty was such as almost to reconcile her to -her lot with Ivar. To think if she chose, she might in time to come be -the joint-possessor of such a gem! - -"A million of money would not buy that cup," cried the earl, watching -her look of admiration. "It belonged originally to the great Caliph, -Abderahman the Second, and was taken by Draco and his Vikings at the -sacking of the Moorish palace at Seville. It vanished from human ken, -and has lain hidden in a night of ten centuries. The lapidaries of the -present age scoff at its description in history, believing the gem to -be the creation of Arabian fancy: but here it is, existing to-day, to -confute their shallow scepticism. Were this gem known to the world it -would take the title of 'The Queen of Sapphires.'" - -Charmed beyond the power of words to describe, Lorelie turned the cup -slowly round, flashing the light from a hundred facets: and then--and -then--she made a discovery. A minute air-bubble was faintly visible in -the crystalline azure! - -She glanced at the earl. His triumphant face showed that he had not the -least inkling of the truth. She looked at Ivar, who happened at this -moment to be standing behind his father. The sudden change in Lorelie's -countenance assured the viscount of the fact of her discovery: and now, -he, the coward who had been willing to take her life, was appealing to -her by gesture and expression to keep her knowledge a secret from his -father. - -For that which gave the earl such pride was in truth nothing but an -artificial gem, a marvellous imitation of the real thing, but still -merely a piece of coloured glass! - -Lorelie became more perplexed than ever at this discovery. How came -Ivar to know that the gem was false, and why was he so anxious to -conceal the truth from his father? - -Then in a moment everything became clear. - -Always pressed for money, and precluded by his father's parsimony -from obtaining it, Ivar had formed the plan of appropriating a -certain portion of the plate and gems contained in the coffin. To -secure himself from detection he had artfully replaced the originals -by clever facsimiles, fabricated on the continent by goldsmiths and -glass-workers of the class who would ask no inconvenient questions -provided that they were well paid for their work. To obtain the -necessary counterfeits Ivar must have conveyed the originals to the -continent, a very hazardous thing to do, seeing that if the earl had -paid a visit of inspection to the treasure during his son's absence, -discovery would have been inevitable. The counterfeits being completed, -Ivar had brought them concealed in the reliquary to Ravenhall, and had -transferred them to the coffin, his remark while doing so--the remark -overheard by Godfrey--to wit, "I hope Lorelie will be satisfied," -being doubtless drawn from him by the fact that Lorelie was often -making monetary demands upon him, a fact which she herself would be the -first to admit, though she little dreamed of the means taken by him to -supply her costly tastes. She could not avoid the feeling that, to some -extent, she was responsible for Ivar's peculations: and, therefore, -compliant with his wish, she kept silent, and permitted the earl to -remain in his ignorance. - -The contents of the coffin were a mixture of the genuine and the -spurious. The altar-ring was the genuine article: it would not have -paid for the trouble of counterfeiting. The jewelled vase was spurious: -on glancing again at this last, Lorelie wondered how she could have -taken the metal for gold: it now seemed to her eyes merely like common -bronze. The "sapphire cup" was but worthless glass: she almost sighed -at the thought that the lovely original should have been exchanged for -current coin of the realm. The selling of such a gem was an act little -short of sacrilege. - -"Well may you linger over it!" cried the earl, thinking that her long -retention of the cup was the result of admiration. "Such a gem as that -is too lovely for earth, too precious even for an empress to drink -from." - -"But not for a Ravengar, surely?" said Lorelie. - -And taking up the decanter she filled the azure cup with wine, and held -it out to him. - -"Drink, my lord," she said smiling, and recalling his own words, "''Tis -of a choice vintage, one of the rarest of the Madeiras.'" - -But from that cup the earl recoiled as from the summons of Death -himself. - -"Why, you start as though 'twere poison," laughed Lorelie. "Will you -not drink, Ivar?" she added, turning to the viscount and offering him -the cup. "What! and do you, too, shrink from a few drops of innocent -Malvazia? refuse the honour of drinking from the great Abderahman's -cup? the caliph's own, veritable, genuine, historic cup! you -understand?" - -He did--fully. Stepping forward, she said in a fierce thrilling -whisper:-- - -"How much is your life worth, if I let your father know that this cup -is but a piece of coloured glass?" - -It was not in Lorelie's nature to take pleasure in another's pain; yet -on the present occasion the despair and fear expressed in Ivar's eyes -was a luxury to her, almost compensating for his attempt on her life. - -"It was for your sake I did it," he muttered with white lips. - -Contemptuously turning away from him, she said:-- - -"Well, then, if neither will drink, I, too, shall refuse. I will -imitate those excellent examples, my husband and father. Let us be -classical and pour out a libation. Here's to the great Archfiend -himself, the author and giver of the treasure, for Heaven, I am -convinced, has had little to do with it." - -She inverted the cup: but, either by accident or design, the greater -part of the liquid fell in splashes upon her dress, very few drops -reaching the floor. - - * * * * * * - -On reaching her bedroom Lorelie's first care was to lock the door: her -next, to cut from her dress every portion stained with wine. These -fragments of cloth she placed in a glass phial, steeping them in water. -Then the spirit that had sustained her through the long and terrible -ordeal gave way, and reeling forward she fell heavily across the bed. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -A CRANIOLOGICAL EXPERIMENT - - -Idris Breakspear strolled slowly to and fro beneath the lime-trees -in the garden of Wave Crest, reading for the twentieth time a letter -received by him the previous evening. - -Accompanying the letter was a note worded thus:--"The enclosed -speaks for itself. Can you ever forgive me for my seven years' -silence?--LORELIE ROCHEFORT." - -The missive forwarded to Idris was her mother's confession relative -to the murder of M. Duchesne, a confession which, it need scarcely be -said, overwhelmed Idris with amazement. - -The hope entertained by him during so many long years was at last -realized: it was now within his power to clear his father's memory; -but the knowledge brought with it as much pain as pleasure, for to -establish his father's innocence was to bring ignominy upon the name of -the woman he loved. - -A soft footfall attracted his attention, and raising his eyes from -the letter he saw Lady Walden herself. Sadly and timidly she stood, -obviously in doubt as to the sort of reception she would meet with. To -face the reproachful eyes of Idris was a more trying ordeal than that -of accompanying the earl to the terrible vault. - -She was the first to speak. - -"You are reading my mother's letter, I perceive. You know now that it -was my father and not yours that murdered Duchesne. I have come," she -faltered, "I have come to ask, yet scarcely daring to ask, whether you -can forgive me for maintaining silence hitherto. I have longed to tell -you the truth, but have been afraid. Do not," she added, breathlessly, -"do not reproach me. You cannot reproach me more than my own conscience -has." - -The look of sorrow in her eyes instantly effaced from Idris' mind all -resentment for his father's wrongs. The oath sworn to his mother in -childhood's days became forgotten. - -"Lady Walden," he replied, "if there be anything on my part to forgive, -I freely forgive. I cannot blame you for seeking to shield your -father's name." - -The look of gratitude that came over her face thrilled Idris, who would -gladly have forgiven her ten times as much for such a glance as she now -gave him. - -She had expected to be treated with coldness, if not with anger by -Idris, instead of which she received from him the same tender respect -as heretofore. She trembled with secret pleasure to think that she -still held a place in his regard. - -"And now you know the truth, you will publish it to the world," she -said. - -"I think not," he replied, speaking slowly and thoughtfully. "No, I am -sure I shall not." - -"You will not redeem your father's memory from guilt?" said Lorelie, -with a little gasp of surprise. "Why not?" - -"Because the fair name of Lady Walden must not be darkened by the -shadow of the past." - -Her eyes drooped. She had no need to ask why he was desirous of -shielding her name from reproach, knowing full well that it was from -love of her. - -"But this--this is not just," she said in a low voice. - -"To proclaim the truth would injure the living," he replied, "without -in any way benefiting the dead." - -"It is not right," she declared, "that your father and you should bear -the stigma that belongs to me and mine. I will proclaim the truth -myself." - -"Lady Walden, if it be your desire to please me, you will maintain -silence. But pardon my discourtesy, you are standing all this time." - -He led her to a garden-seat, and took his place beside her. - -"You once asked me," said Lorelie, "to let you read my father's -correspondence. I have brought his letters with me. They are here." - -She held out a packet of letters. - -"Will you not read them to me, Lady Walden? You can then omit what you -think necessary." - -"I have no wish to conceal anything contained in them," she answered, -placing the letters in his hand. "But before you read, let me forestall -and correct an erroneous impression you may be likely to draw from -them. Guided partly by these letters, partly by other considerations, -I have, till a few days ago, entertained the belief that the Earl of -Ormsby was none other than--your father, Eric Marville." - -Despite his desire to be serious Idris could not refrain from smiling -at this statement. - -"And what has led you to discard this extraordinary theory?" he asked. - -"I was glancing yesterday over a copy of an old French -newspaper--_L'Étoile de la Bretagne_--in which is given a full -description of your father as he appeared at his trial in the Palais de -Justice. Now in this account Eric Marville is described as having very -dark eyes, whereas Lord Ormsby's eyes are light grey in colour." - -"Which deprives me of the honour of claiming an earl as my father," -said Idris, with an air of mock disappointment. - -"I do not think you will esteem it much of an honour when you hear what -I have to say. But, first, will you not read these letters?" - -Idris, though much surprised by her words, made no further comment, but -turned to the correspondence of Captain Rochefort. - -Lorelie had arranged the letters in chronological order, and Idris -began his perusal, becoming more interested with each successive -missive. When he had finished reading he looked extremely grave, and -said:-- - -"The final letters, interpreted by what we know to have taken place -within Ormfell, would almost seem to suggest--how shall I say it?--that -your father was killed by mine!" - -"That at first was my belief, but I know now it cannot have been." - -"I trust that you are right. But why cannot it have been?" - -"Beatrice in her hypnotic trance recognized the face of the assassin. -But she has never seen either your father or mine. Therefore we cannot -impute the murder to either of these." - -"True!" replied Idris, with a sudden feeling of relief. "But tell me, -Lady Walden, what face _did_ she see, for I am convinced that you know." - -"If," she replied evasively, "if we can discover the present possessor -of the Viking's treasure, we shall obtain a strong clue to the -assassin?" - -"Undoubtedly." - -"Well, then, the Viking's treasure is at Ravenhall, concealed in the -secret vault." - -And she proceeded to intensify Idris' surprise by relating the incident -of her visit to the crypt, saying nothing, however, as to the earl's -purpose in taking her thither. - -"Who placed the treasure there?" asked Idris. - -"Four persons only have had access to this vault--the earl, Viscount -Walden, the family solicitor, and the Rector of Ormsby. The two latter -we can at once dismiss from our list of 'suspects.'" - -Idris turned a startled face upon Lorelie. - -"Surely you would not have me charge your husband--your father-in-law, -with murder!" - -"I strongly suspect the latter from the perturbed air manifested by him -when I once hinted at my knowledge of the crime." - -"The grave and dignified earl the author of such a deed! Impossible!" - -"Not more impossible than that my own father should be a murderer!" - -Idris started at her bitter tone. Truly the Fates had dealt hardly with -her in the matter of kinsfolk. Those ladies of Ormsby who were disposed -to envy Mademoiselle Rivière her new rank would have had little cause -for envy could they have seen into her mind at that moment. - -"I have found," continued Lorelie, "the very instrument with which the -deed was wrought. It is here." - -As she spoke she produced a jewelled hat-pin shaped like a stiletto, -the steel blade being broken off short at the hilt. - -"This belonged to the late Countess of Ormsby, in whose jewel-case -it has lain for over twenty years: at least, so the old housekeeper -declares. The blade was broken a short time before the death of the -countess, and has never been repaired." - -"Does the housekeeper give any account of how the steel came to be -broken?" - -"She tells a very significant story. The countess lost this stiletto -when walking in the park one day. On discovering her loss she -immediately set the servants to look for it, but their search was -unavailing. Next morning, however, the earl returned the hat-pin to the -countess, saying that while taking a walk by moonlight he had found it -in its broken condition. - -"Now my belief is that the earl, having discovered that Ormfell was -the site of a buried treasure, was proceeding thither at night, either -alone or attended by a servant, for the purpose of opening the hillock, -and while on his way through the park he chanced to light upon his -wife's hat-pin. Naturally he did not leave it lying upon the ground, -but picked it up and placed it upon his person. And this is the weapon -with which he attacked the other man, whoever he may have been, that -was with him in the hillock. When the countess next morning received -back her hat-pin from her husband, she little knew of the terrible use -to which it had been put." - -"Your theory, if correct, proves that the deed was unpremeditated, -otherwise the earl would have gone provided with a more efficient -weapon. Do you know the date of the countess's death?" - -"She died in the autumn of '77." - -"Then the crime must have taken place more than twenty-one years ago." - -Idris fell to thinking: and the result of his thought was that it would -be an ungrateful task to bring to justice an aged peer for a crime -committed more than twenty years ago. For all he knew to the contrary -the deed might have been a case of justifiable homicide: the earl had -perhaps been compelled to slay the other in self-defence. Besides, -was he not Lorelie's father-in-law? If ignominy fell upon the House -of Ravengar it must fall likewise upon her. No breath of scandal must -touch her name. Idris felt that his hands were tied: he could make no -move in the matter. - -"We know the author of the deed, it seems," he murmured, "but the -identity of the victim still remains a mystery. Who was he?" - -"That is a problem I am trying to solve." - -"And you say the Viking's treasure is in the crypt of Ravenhall? What -is Lord Ormsby's object in keeping it concealed?" - -"I can but guess. Treasure-trove, as you know, is the property of -the Crown: therefore the earl, on finding it, was compelled to act -circumspectly. The sudden acquisition of a vast quantity of plate -and jewels might have given rise to awkward questions on the part of -the steward, and especially on the part of Lanfranc, the Ravenhall -solicitor, a man somewhat given to suspicion. The earl was therefore -obliged to secrete his ill-acquired wealth: and this he did by placing -it within one of the coffins in the crypt, gratifying his avarice by -occasional visits of inspection. That is my theory, but of course I may -be wrong." - -"Mortifying that he should have to secrete it," remarked Idris, "when -if the story of the runic ring be true, the wealth is his by hereditary -right, as the eldest lineal descendant of Orm the Viking." - -"Mr. Breakspear, your right to that treasure is greater than the -earl's." - -Idris was disposed to think so, too, in virtue of the long years he had -spent in his attempts to decipher the runic ring. But this was not what -Lorelie meant. - -"Did you not notice what my father says in one of these letters, that -Eric Marville claimed to be heir to a peerage?" - -"It did not escape me. A surprising statement, if true." - -"And the interest taken by your father in the runic ring, the heirloom -of the Ravengars, proves his peerage to have been the Earldom of -Ormsby." - -"I fear you are dealing in fanciful hypotheses," smiled Idris. - -"Your likeness to the family portraits of the Ravengars is very -remarkable." - -"Mere coincidence." - -"Not so. It is as certain that you are the rightful Earl of Ormsby as -it is that the sun is shining." - -"But how? In what way?" cried Idris, impressed, in spite of himself, by -her air of conviction. - -"That I cannot tell. I am trying to find out." - -"I thank you, Lady Walden, for interesting yourself in my fortunes, but -supposing that your surmise should prove correct--what then?" - -"You will take the title and station that are rightfully yours." - -"And, by so doing, deprive you of your position? No, Lady Walden, I -cannot do that. If, as is implied by your words, you are seeking to -prove that I have a claim to the Earldom of Ormsby, I would ask you to -desist. Let matters be as they are. I am quite content to remain plain -Idris Breakspear, and to leave to you the coronet of the Ravengars. -I do not believe that I am of noble birth, but in any case I will do -nothing detrimental to your position." - -"My position!" thought Lorelie, bitterly, as she recalled the attempt -made upon her life. "Heaven help me to escape from my position! But," -she said, aloud, "you are doing a wrong to your future wife. She may -not appreciate the generosity that deprives her of a coronet." - -"My future wife!" smiled Idris. "I shall never marry." - -"And why not?" - -"They do not love who love twice." - -Lorelie, knowing his meaning, trembled, miserable and happy at one and -the same time. - -"I am glad," he continued, "to have this opportunity of saying -good-bye, Lady Walden, for I leave England soon, probably forever." - -Lorelie received this news with dismay. Whether the feeling of pleasure -derivable from Idris' friendship was a right or a wrong feeling she -had never stopped to inquire, but it _was_ a pleasure, and a sense of -desolation fell upon her on hearing that she was to enjoy it no longer. - -"A friend of mine has received a secret commission from the Indian -Government to explore Tibet, the tour to include the forbidden city of -Lassa. I have agreed to accompany him." - -Lorelie was not ignorant of the perils attending such an enterprise. - -"You will never return," she cried. - -"So much the better," he answered quietly. - -She glanced at him for a moment, and then her eyes fell, for she -understood him. Involuntarily her mind was led to contrast the husband, -who had sought to take her life, with Idris, so anxious to keep her -name fair before the world: Idris, whose love was such that he was -willing to sacrifice everything--even his life--for her sake! She could -not hide the tears glistening beneath her lashes. The situation was -a trying one for both, but fortunately at this moment a third person -appeared on the scene. - -Beatrice emerged from the garden-porch, and Lorelie, averting her head, -essayed to remove the traces of tears from her eyes. - -Beatrice gave her visitor a glad greeting, but there was a subdued air -about her, due, as Lorelie knew, to sorrow at the thought of Idris' -departure. - -"Has Mr. Breakspear told you that he is going to leave us?" she asked, -and receiving an affirmative, she continued mournfully:--"As this is -perhaps the last time we shall be together you must stay with us as -long as you can. We are just about to have luncheon. Will you not join -us?" - -Lorelie readily assented, and went up-stairs with Beatrice to remove -her hat and mantle. - -"You are not looking very well, Lady Walden." - -"No, Beatrice. And I shall never be well again." - -Something in her tone went to Beatrice's heart: she guessed that -Lorelie's unhappiness arose from Ivar's ill-treatment of her. - -The beautiful face was suffused by an expression so miserable that -Beatrice, the maiden of eighteen, involuntarily drew the married -woman of twenty-three within her arms and kissed her consolingly, as -though the viscountess were a little child. And Lorelie, glad of such -sympathy, clung to Beatrice's embrace. - -"Beatrice," she said presently, "if you should hear that I have slipped -from a battlement on the roof of Ravenhall and dislocated my neck, or -that I have lost my life by falling into the lake in the park, remember -that this event will not have happened by accident." - -"What do you mean?" gasped Beatrice, thinking that Lorelie was -contemplating suicide. - -"Let your brother say whether I am wrong. Did he analyze the contents -of the phial that I sent him?" - -"He said that the water contained--I forget how many grains of -strychnine," replied Beatrice, innocently. - -"Then I was right," said Lorelie, with a face as white as death. "O, -Beatrice, the earl and Ivar tried to poison me!" - -"Lady Walden, how dare you say that?" said Beatrice, with a burst of -indignation. - -It was against Ravengars that Lorelie's charge was made, and Beatrice -suddenly remembered that she herself was a Ravengar. Bad as Ivar might -be she could not believe him capable of murder: and as for the earl, -had he not always treated her with kindness? - -But when Lorelie began to relate the incident of her visit to the -crypt, Beatrice's scepticism slowly vanished, and she listened with a -growing horror upon her face. And when the story was ended, she sat -cold and trembling, unable at first to speak. - -"Are they aware that you suspected their design?" she asked. - -"I do not think so. I continue to speak and act as if I have every -confidence in them." - -"How can you bear to live with them? What they have attempted once they -may attempt again. How can you trust yourself at the same table with -them?" - -"By eating of the dishes of which they eat; they are not likely to -poison themselves. I must remain at Ravenhall till I have accomplished -my task." - -"And what is that?" - -"To obtain proofs of Mr. Breakspear's right to the earldom: for, -Beatrice, I have reasons for believing that he is the rightful Earl of -Ormsby." - -And Lorelie proceeded to repeat the arguments she had addressed to -Idris, with some others in addition. - -"Have you told Mr. Breakspear this?" said Beatrice, breathless with -excitement. - -"Yes, and he refuses to move in the matter." - -"But we will make him," cried Beatrice, impulsively. "We will persuade -him to give up this mad journey to Tibet. Lady Walden----" - -"Do not recall my unhappiness by using that name: besides it is not -justly mine. Call me Lorelie." - -"Lorelie, then. I will come to Ravenhall and live there with you." - -Lorelie's smile was like sunlight sweeping over a dark landscape. - -"If anything could make me happy it would be your daily companionship, -dearest Beatrice." - -"It is not safe for you to live alone at Ravenhall," continued -Beatrice. "I will return with you to keep watch and ward over you. -Together we will work and make what discoveries we can. If Idris really -be the owner of Ravenhall we will do our best to establish him in his -rights." - -The light of justice shone from Beatrice's eyes. There should be a -righting of the wrong. Since the earl and Ivar had not hesitated at -murder, let them suffer the punishment due to their guilt by losing -their rank and estates. - -"And when that is done," said Lorelie, "it will be for me to retire -to a convent, and for Idris to place a coronet on these tresses," she -added, touching Beatrice's hair. - -"Ah, no!" replied Beatrice, sadly. "He will not marry me. Idris never -loved any one but you. It is impossible for him to have you, yet he -will never love any one else." - -Lorelie was touched to the quick by Beatrice's look of distress. She -felt that if she herself had not appeared upon the scene, Beatrice -might now be happy in the love of Idris. - -"Beatrice, believe me, I would gladly die if my death would enable you -to gain his love." - -Beatrice did not doubt the sincerity of this assurance. Brave-hearted -and generous the little maiden harboured no resentment against her -rival. - -"He will come to you some day," said Lorelie, kissing the other -tenderly. "He has been with you long enough to know your worth. He will -find a want of something in his life when he is away from you. He will -begin to ask himself what it is. 'It is Beatrice,' his heart will -answer: and he will return to seek you." - -Beatrice shook her head, refusing to believe in this bright forecast. - -"Have you told Idris of the attempt made upon your life?" she asked. - -"No." - -"We shall be doing well not to tell him of it. He is hot-blooded where -your welfare is concerned: his rage would lead him to horsewhip both -the earl and Ivar, or to do something equally rash. It is for us to -mete out the punishment. We will do it more circumspectly. We will lull -them into a false state of security, and then, when they least expect -it----" - -What more she would have said was cut short by Godfrey who, standing -at the foot of the staircase, asked whether he and Idris were or were -_not_ to have the society of the ladies at luncheon; and thus adjured -the two went down to the dining-room. - -Godfrey was much struck with Lorelie's pallid look, and determined, -before letting her depart, to take a diagnosis of her state, and -prescribe accordingly. - -Though full of wonder when Beatrice began to tell him of her intention -to live at Ravenhall as Lorelie's companion, he made no objection, -surmising that there was a mystery somewhere, and that she had good -reason for the course she was taking. - -"I shall be sorry to lose you, Trixie," he remarked. - -"It is only for a time," replied his sister. - -"By the way," said Godfrey, turning to address Idris, "I attended an -old gentleman yesterday, one enthusiastically devoted to botany, and -a little 'touched,' I fancy, over his favourite pursuit. He told me -among other matters that he had once sown some mandrake seeds on the -northern side of Ormfell with a view of learning whether the plant -would outlive the rigours of our Northumbrian winter. Great was his -indignation to find one day that the plant had been wilfully plucked -up by the roots. I did not tell him that I could give the names of the -guilty persons, but contented myself with suggesting that the renewal -of his botanic experiment might have more success if confined to the -limits of his own garden." - -"Ah! then there is one mystery cleared up," observed Idris. - -"But there are others," remarked Lorelie, "which you are leaving behind -unsolved. Cannot you persuade Mr. Breakspear," she added, turning to -Godfrey, "to abandon his expedition?" - -"O, Idris will come back safely," cheerfully responded the surgeon, who -did not view the enterprise with the same fears as the ladies. "He will -return covered with glory. He will have added a valuable chapter to -geographical science, and will of course write a book." - -"Of surprising dulness," interjected Idris. - -"Of surpassing interest," corrected Godfrey. "I wonder you never took -to authorship, for you have what I classify as the literary head." - -"Don't! My vanity is great enough already." - -"Did you not know that Godfrey is an expert in phrenology?" asked -Beatrice. - -"Not till this moment. But the news comes very opportunely. Man, -know thyself! Godfrey, give me an introduction to Idris Breakspear. -Manipulate my cranium, and let me have a true account of my character. -Be critical, and spare not!" - -And Godfrey, responsive to Idris' humour, proceeded to make a study of -his head. - -"Take my note-book, Miss Ravengar," smiled Idris, pushing it towards -her, "and record my wicked characteristics. Now, Godfrey, begin." - -"Amativeness," said the doctor, placing his finger-tips beneath Idris' -ears, while Beatrice laughingly wrote the word. - -"You begin alphabetically, do you?" remarked Idris. "Amativeness: that, -being interpreted, meaneth love--of--of the ladies generally. That -organ is very large, of course?" - -"No. Fairly large." - -"O, come, you must be making a mistake. Feel again! It's a libel to -limit my amatory sentiment to 'fairly large' only." - -"I put it down as seven," replied Godfrey. - -"What's the highest figure to which you ascend?" - -"Nine--in my system." - -"And I do not attain the top figure? Can't you make it eight, or at -least seven and three-quarters?" - -"The pupil must not dictate to the master," said Beatrice. - -"Combativeness," Godfrey went on, his fingers ascending slightly. - -"Combativeness," repeated Idris: "readiness to fight for--for the -ladies. Don't say that isn't large." - -"It is. Very large indeed." - -"Good! There may be some truth in phrenology after all. Put -'combativeness' down as nine, Miss Ravengar. Go on, Godfrey! Next item, -please!" - -So amid Idris' badinage Godfrey proceeded with his statements, all of -which Beatrice laughingly wrote down. Presently a grave expression -stole over Godfrey's face, and before he had ended his task the -expression had become one of doubt and perplexity. Both Lorelie and -Beatrice noticed it. Idris, however, was precluded by his position from -seeing Godfrey's look. - -"Well, now, this is very pleasant reading," said Idris banteringly, -receiving his pocketbook from Beatrice, and glancing over what she had -written. "I feel as a returned spirit may be supposed to feel when he -peruses the virtues inscribed on his tombstone and fails to recognize -himself. Such a character as this, duly attested and signed 'G. -Rothwell, M. D.,' ought to procure me a free pass to any part of Tibet." - -He began to talk of his intended expedition, and a trifling argument -arising between himself and Godfrey relative to some point of Tibetan -geography, Beatrice, as if to settle the dispute, wickedly despatched -Idris to the library for a book that she knew he would not find there. - -As soon as he had vanished through the doorway she turned to her -brother. - -"Godfrey, why did you look so serious while studying Idris' head?" - -"Did I look serious?" - -"Did you look----? Just listen to him, Lorelie! Don't equivocate. You -have discovered something: I know you have. Something that troubles -you. What is it? Didn't Idris' character impress you favourably?" - -"Idris' character is exactly as I gave it." - -"Then why look as if he were an ogre?" - -"It is but twenty-four hours since I examined another head." - -"Whose?" - -"You shall learn presently. Here is the result of my study of '_Nemo_,' -as I call him." - -He drew out his own pocketbook and directed Beatrice's attention to a -certain page headed "_Character of Nemo_." - -Very much puzzled, Beatrice conned his notes, but had not proceeded -very far before she snatched up Idris' pocketbook and began to compare -the remarks in each. - -"'Amativeness--seven. Combativeness--nine,'" she murmured, reading the -list of characteristics. "Why, there is no difference between them," -she exclaimed. "Idris and your '_Nemo_' have heads exactly alike." - -"The very thought that struck me just now." - -"Who is this '_Nemo_'?" - -"That is what I wish to know." - -"Didn't the man give you his name, then?" - -"I didn't ask him for it." - -"Why not?" - -"He wouldn't have told me if I had." - -"He wished to remain incognito?" - -"He didn't give verbal expression to that effect in fact he had lost -the power of speaking." - -"Was he dumb, then?" - -"Very much so." - -"O, Godfrey, do be explicit, and speak so that we can understand." - -"Truth to tell, the man was dead!" - -Beatrice gave a little scream. - -"And his head reposes in that cabinet," continued Godfrey. - -"You mean the Viking's skull?" - -"You've hit the mark." - -"But what--what----?" - -"What made me desirous of learning the character of the man to whom the -skull belonged? A passing whim--nothing more. As I was casually opening -the cabinet yesterday the skull caught my eye. 'Come!' said I, 'let me -see the sort of fellow you were when alive.' And this," added Godfrey, -tapping his note-book, "this is the result. Idris spends long years in -deciphering a runic inscription on an ancient ring: acting on the vague -hints furnished by it he undertakes an expedition to Ormfell, obtaining -as his reward a skull whose phrenological development corresponds -exactly with his own. He was quite right in his opinion that the -Viking's tomb would contain a clue towards solving his father's fate, -for it is my firm belief that the skull in that cabinet is none other -than the skull of Eric Marville!" - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -THE VENGEANCE OF THE SKULL - - -Viscount Walden's twenty-first birthday was drawing near, and Ravenhall -was making grand preparations for the occasion. Invitations were -issued to the local magnates and their families--invitations eagerly -accepted, for everybody was curious to see both the earl, who had -so long secluded himself from society, and the new viscountess, -whose secret marriage had invested her with a romantic interest. -Entertainment of various kinds was provided, for the earl's guests, -as well as for the tenantry of his estates, the day to terminate in -a grand ball, preceded by the performance of a poetic drama, written -by Lady Walden, and entitled _The Fatal Skull_, a drama in which the -authoress herself was to take the leading _rôle_. The other _dramatis -personæ_ were drawn from a select circle of Ormsby society, and their -frequent rehearsals filled Ravenhall with a mirth and a gaiety not -known in that gloomy mansion for many years. Lorelie took upon herself -the office of stage-directress, and flung herself heart and soul into -the work. She was ably seconded by Beatrice Ravengar, who, to the -surprise of everybody in Ormsby, had left her brother Godfrey in order -to be the companion of the new viscountess. A number of carpenters and -scene-shifters from London had transformed the great hall of the castle -into a suitable stage and auditorium. Scenic artists were busy at the -canvas. Money was freely lavished upon the appropriate theatrical -costumes. A leading society-paper had asked for, and had obtained, -the favour of having a reporter present to record the day's doings; -in short, everything had been done to ensure success, and the amateur -actors looked forward to the event with a pleasurable zest. - -The great day came at last, as sunny and fair as could be desired. -The earl moved about among his guests and tenantry with a dignified -courtesy, bestowing 'nods and becks and wreathed smiles' on all sides, -in a manner surprising to those who had hitherto regarded him as a sort -of gloomy Manfred. - -Ivar was on excellent terms with himself: he flirted with the ladies, -and patronized the young men with a truly lordly air. A descendant -of a noble house: heir to a splendid estate: husband of a wife -whose loveliness and literary abilities were the theme of universal -praise--what more could he desire? Indifferent himself to Lorelie's -charms he was not displeased to witness the admiration they excited in -others. She was a part of his property, as it were: it was but fitting -that she should receive her tribute of praise along with the other -items of the Ravengar estate. - -Lady Walden made an ideal hostess, and the guests whispered in -secret that if the rumour were true that her own family was not of -the highest, her beauty and sprightliness amply compensated for the -deficiency. From her manner one would have thought her the happiest -lady in the county. Once only did she give evidence of the real -feeling that lay masked beneath her pleasant exterior, and that was -when the Mayor of Ormsby, standing upon the flight of steps leading -up to the grand entrance of Ravenhall, read a long address to Ivar, -congratulating him on the attainment of his majority, and expressing -the hope that both the viscount and his lady might long live to enjoy -their exalted rank. At this Lorelie's lips curved for a moment into a -bitter smile, and she cast a significant glance at Beatrice, who was -seldom absent from her side that day. To those who noted the smile it -recurred with peculiar force upon the morrow. - -With the coming of twilight Beatrice stole away from the company to a -private portion of the park, taking her course towards a little gateway -in the western wall. Near this gate was a wooden bench, and seating -herself upon it she drew forth a telegram and glanced at the message it -contained, which was singularly brief:--"Will be at the place appointed -by seven o'clock." - -The sender of this telegram was punctual to the minute. St. Oswald's -Church clock was chiming the hour when there came a knocking at the -wicket-gate. Instantly unlocking it Beatrice threw it open, and stood -face to face with Idris Breakspear. - -She greeted him with an air which Idris intuitively felt to be a -foreboding of grave things. - -"On the point of sailing for India," he observed, "I received a letter -from Miss Ravengar bidding me return at once to Ormsby. Such a message -cannot be ignored, and therefore I am here. And the question is, 'Why -am I here?'" - -"I have not sent for you without cause. It is your duty to follow me, -to ask no questions, but to await developments." - -"And where are you taking me?" he asked, as she locked the gate. - -"There!" exclaimed Beatrice, appealing to an imaginary audience. "His -first utterance is a defiance of my orders. However, I will answer that -question. You are coming with me to Ravenhall." - -Impressed by the oddity of her manner Idris made no demur but offered -his arm and accepted her guidance. - -Their way led by a private path amid dense shrubbery: now and again -through a long-drawn vista in the trees Idris caught a glimpse of the -more distant portions of the park. - -The dusk of a lovely summer's eve was descending upon the lordly -terraces and verdant lawns of Ravenhall. Mellowed by the distance the -music of a regimental band floated on the air. _Al fresco_ dancing was -taking place beside the margin of a grey-gleaming lake. Above was a -sky of darkest blue: below, the myriad lanterns shining amid the dark -foliage made the park appear like a scene from fairyland. - -Idris contemplated the picture with mixed feelings. If--and it was a -very great "if," he admitted--Lorelie was right in asserting that he -himself was the true Earl of Ormsby, then all this fair estate was -really his. Well, he had resigned his claim in favour of Lorelie, and -would not go from his word. But not till this moment did he fully -realize the extent of the sacrifice. - -"It is a gala day, I perceive," he remarked. "I learned on my way -from the station that Lord Walden has attained his majority. He has a -splendid estate _in futuro_. He ought to be a proud man to-day." - -"He _is_ proud, ignorant that, like Agamemnon, he is treading on purple -to his doom." - -Idris was surprised at these words, surprised still more by the -bitterness with which Beatrice emphasized them. What did this speech -portend? - -"You have been living at Ravenhall for the past two months, I -understand?" he remarked, for want of something better to say. - -"Yes, as Lorelie's companion. This is our last day here. Lorelie and I -take our departure to-night." - -Idris was more mystified than ever. Beatrice smiled as if enjoying his -perplexity. - -They had now reached the western wing of the mansion, and Beatrice, -unlocking a small door, invited Idris to enter. - -"Am I to be smuggled in?" - -"Yes, for this once, Cousin Idris." - -"_Cousin_ Idris," he repeated, emphasizing the first word. - -"Did I say 'cousin'?" she asked, with a simulation of innocence. "Well, -I won't withdraw the term. Let it remain." - -Idris stared hard at her, trying to read her thoughts. If he were -really a Ravengar it might be that he was cousin to Beatrice. Was it -possible that she and Lorelie had obtained proofs of this? Nay, could -it be true that he was really entitled to the earldom? Had he been -summoned here by Beatrice to take part in some plot by which the earl -should be made to confess himself a usurper? Full of wonder he silently -followed his guide. They traversed several corridors and ascended two -staircases without encountering any one, a fact which led Idris to -believe that Beatrice had prearranged matters with a view to keeping -his visit a secret. Opening a door in an upper corridor Beatrice drew -him forward, remarking: "This is our destination." - -Idris, looking around, found himself in a dainty little chamber very -like an opera-box in appearance, inasmuch as there was a sort of -balcony on one side of it. Silken draperies prevented him from seeing -into what this balcony projected, but from below it there came the -subdued murmur of voices. - -"We are here," said Beatrice, "to view Lorelie's tragedy. It is to be -acted to-night, and in this little place you and I will be able to -witness the play unseen either by actors or audience." - -Stepping forward she cautiously put the curtains aside, an action which -disclosed the fact that they were standing on an elevated balcony that -projected into, and looked down upon, a grand Gothic hall, brilliantly -illuminated with electric light. - -Under the manipulation of carpenters and upholsterers the place had -assumed a somewhat theatre-like aspect. The southern end of the hall -was appropriated to the stage, which for the time being was hidden -from view by the folds of a heavy curtain. The pavement of the body of -the hall was covered with velvet carpeting. Fauteuils, lounges, seats -of every description, were disposed here and there: and these were -now becoming occupied by a number of fashionably-dressed ladies and -gentlemen, the time fixed for the beginning of the performance being -close at hand. - -"I daresay," said Beatrice, "you are wondering whether it is reasonable -on the part of Lorelie and myself to stop your voyage and to summon you -here merely to witness a play? The sequel will show. It is something -more than a play that you are asked to witness: it is an experiment. If -Lorelie were to choose a motto for her drama it would be the words of -Hamlet:-- - - - "'The play's the thing - Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king.'" - - -"I am altogether in the dark," said her companion, lugubriously. - -"Be patient, Cousin Idris, and you shall have light anon." - -"Cousin Idris again! Come, if we really _are_ cousins, I shall exercise -a cousin's privilege." - -So saying he stole his arm around her, and turned her pretty face -upward to his own. And Beatrice, unable to escape, submitted her lips -to his, laughing, yet feeling more disposed to cry, knowing full well -that there was another whom he would much rather have kissed. - -She broke from his arms and essayed to hide her confusion in the study -of a playbill printed on white satin. Of the _dramatis personæ_, four -names only were familiar to Idris. - - - _Rosamond_ (Queen of the Lombards) LADY WALDEN. - _Alboin_ (King of the Lombards) LORD WALDEN. - _Cunimund_ (King of the Gepidæ) DR. G. ROTHWELL. - _Paulinus_ (a bishop) THE EARL OF ORMSBY. - - -"The earl among the actors?" cried Idris in surprise. - -"The play, as an experiment, would be a failure without him," returned -Beatrice, oracularly. "To persuade him to take part in it was a matter -requiring very delicate handling on the part of Lorelie and myself. But -we have gained our end, you see." - -At this juncture there arose the twanging of violin-strings, the -puffing of wind instruments, and other sounds preliminary to orchestral -music. Then in a moment more the overture had begun. - -Idris, having drawn a velvet lounge to a point convenient for obtaining -a clearer view of the stage, seated Beatrice beside himself. They were -almost screened from sight by the arrangement of the silken curtains, -and by a profusion of flowers and fernery that decorated the exterior -ledge of the balcony. - -The overture was a really brilliant piece, but Beatrice appeared to -give little heed to it. - -"There was once," she murmured, in a dreamy voice, "there was once a -son, who at the age of seven years promised his mother on oath that -when he became a man he would do his utmost to clear his father's name -from a false charge. The son attained manhood; the opportunity came -for proving his father's innocence, and what did the son do? Nothing! -Absolutely nothing!" - -"Would you have me darken Lorelie's name?" asked Idris, with a slight -touch of anger in his voice. - -But without heeding this interruption Beatrice went on:-- - -"And therefore, as you have failed in your duty, Lorelie herself will -perform the act of justice to the dead. At this very hour two leading -newspapers--the one in Paris, the other in London--are setting up -the type of an article entitled 'The story of an almost forgotten -tragedy,' an article that will bear the signature of Lorelie Rochefort. -To-morrow morning the world will learn that Eric Marville was innocent -of the crime laid to his charge. And to-night, here, in this very -hall, Lorelie hopes to prove who Eric Marville really was: and her -experiment, if it terminate as she expects, will depress her fortune in -just the same proportion as it will raise yours. - -"And this she does by way of making atonement to you for her guilty -silence in the matter of Eric Marville's innocence. That silence was -the only fault in a life otherwise noble and good; how good no one -knows so well as myself. But see! the play is beginning." - -As Beatrice spoke, the music of the orchestra stopped with a sudden -crash. The electric light was switched off, leaving the body of the -hall in semi-darkness. The buzz of conversation ceased, and amid a -death-like silence the curtain rose on the opening act of the tragedy -of _The Fatal Skull_. - -The first scene of this drama was styled on the playbill, "An -audience-chamber in the palace of Cunimund." - -Clad in barbaric splendour, and seated upon a canopied throne, was the -royal Cunimund, in the person of Godfrey Rothwell. On each side of him -stood armed warriors and venerable counsellors, among the latter being -the earl himself in his character of Bishop Paulinus, a _rôle_ for -which his grave and dignified bearing seemed naturally adapted. - -Idris gazed upon the earl with considerable interest, beholding him -for the first time. This was the man whom Lorelie--oddly enough now it -seemed--had identified with his own father! She had been compelled to -admit herself in error, but was there truth in her other theory that -the earl was the author of the deed done in Ormfell? He turned from the -contemplation of this problem to listen to the words of the play. - -The opening speech of King Cunimund, addressed to his followers, showed -that he had assembled them for the purpose of giving audience to a -herald from the Lombard king, Alboin. The messenger being admitted, -demanded, on behalf of his royal master, the hand of Cunimund's -daughter, the fair princess Rosamond. From the herald's address Alboin -appeared to be a somewhat savage wooer, inasmuch as he was encamped -with an army upon the frontier, prepared, in the event of refusal, to -ravage the Gepid kingdom with fire and sword. - -"It is for Rosamond herself to decide the question," was the just -arbitrament of Cunimund, when the herald had finished his oration. - -So a messenger was despatched off the stage to bring in the princess. -Then, from the right wing, to the sound of music soft and sweet, -Lorelie entered in the character of Rosamond, the limelight playing -with enchanting effect over the curves of her graceful figure and over -the silken sheen of her dress. In Idris' eyes she had never looked more -lovely, her natural beauty being enhanced by the attractions of art. -And Beatrice, watching his face, sighed, for she knew herself to be -forgotten. - -Idris had hoped to receive a glance from Lorelie on her entrance, but -in this he was disappointed: her whole soul was evidently absorbed in -the part she was playing. - -With a half-smile upon her lip Rosamond listened while her father -Cunimund briefly explained the purpose for which she had been summoned. -Then, standing erect with girlish grace Rosamond pleaded, in sweet and -maidenly language, not to be given up to the will of a king well known -for his savage character. There was something so pathetic and touching -in her appeal as she stood alone facing the rough warriors, that tears -rose to the eyes of many ladies in the audience. It seemed not to be -acting, but nature itself. - -Tumultuous shouts from the Gepid warriors applauded Rosamond's -decision, and the curtain descended upon an exciting tableau--the -running to and fro of men, the buckling on of armour, and the giving of -orders for the coming fray. - -On turning to ascertain Idris' opinion of the first act Beatrice found -him with a look of perplexity on his face. - -"The earl! The earl!" he murmured. "Am I dreaming, or have I seen him -before? His attitude in raising his hand to his brow recalls a gesture -on the part of some one I have known in far-off times. In his voice, -too, there is something familiar: it is like the echo of one heard in -my childhood." - -Beatrice gave a faint cry of surprise. - -"Lorelie was right, then, in her conjecture," she said. "Yes: -Cousin Idris, you _have_ seen the earl before under very different -circumstances from the present. Patience! you shall learn where ere -long." - -Quickly the curtain rose upon the second act. - -The scene represented the interior of a church by night. Lamps gleaming -from lofty columns shed a solemn light around. - -Rosamond was present with her maidens and a few armed attendants. -Their words showed that the Gepid army had suffered defeat. Cunimund -himself was dead--not killed in fair and open fight, but treacherously -assassinated by the bishop Paulinus, who had gone over to the Lombard -side in the midst of the battle, carrying with him the head of the -fallen king, and securing by that gift the favour of Alboin. The -Lombards were now marching upon the Gepid capital, and Rosamond was -seeking to elude capture by taking sanctuary. - -Vain hope! From without came cries, the tramp of warriors, the clang -of arms. Torches gleamed through the windows of the church. Rosamond's -attendants tried to bar the door: their feeble efforts yielded to the -superior force of the foe, and the Lombards entered the church with -Alboin at their head, the _rôle_ of that king being sustained by Ivar. -The sanctuary became the scene of an unequal combat. Soon the sword -glimmered in the grasp of the last defender, and the triumphant and -savage Alboin seized the lovely and shrinking form of Rosamond. - -Not till Alboin had sworn to accomplish his purpose, with or without -marriage, did Rosamond yield her reluctant assent to become his -wife. The ceremony took place on the spot, Paulinus himself, the -traitor-bishop, performing the marriage-rite. - -Rosamond, half-fainting, was led by her attendant maidens to the -altar, and holding Alboin's hand, was forced to utter the words of the -wedding-ritual amid the rude shouting of the Lombard soldiery, one of -whom carried the head of Cunimund affixed to the point of a pike. - -Language fails to convey an adequate conception of the wild horror -displayed by Rosamond at this juncture in being mated to a man she -loathed, and by an ecclesiastic whose hands were red with her father's -blood. In an agony of grief and rage she mingled the holy words of the -ritual with fierce "asides." She was no longer the sweet maiden of the -first act, but a woman thirsting for vengeance. - -It struck Idris that the situation of Rosamond offered an analogy to -that of Lorelie herself in being wedded to an uncongenial consort -and living in daily communion with a man guilty of bloodshed. Then -slowly the belief came over him that this emotion on her part was not -a piece of acting, but the real expression of her feelings. It was no -mock princess that he beheld, breathing an imaginary hatred against -stage-foes, but a wronged woman animated with a deadly purpose against -her husband and her father-in-law. What had happened to transform -Lorelie's sweet and gracious nature to this dark and vengeful mood? - -"As I live," muttered Idris, when the curtain had descended upon the -scene, "she is importing her own personal feelings into the piece. She -hates the earl and Ivar, and is laying some snare for them." - -"You have hit it," replied Beatrice. "This play is for their -humiliation and ruin." - -"How is it that her object did not reveal itself to them during the -rehearsal?" - -"Because she did not act then in the same spirit as now: and, moreover, -she will insert some words not in the printed edition of her play in -order to mark their effect upon the earl. There will be no need to ask -what words, or for what purpose uttered: you will know as soon as you -hear. See!" exclaimed Beatrice, in a voice trembling with suppressed -excitement, "the third act is beginning." - -As the curtain ascended again a murmur of admiration rose from the -audience at the beauty of the tableau revealed to view. The scene -represented the refectory of a palace, and was so arranged that the -actual walls of the Gothic hall in which the audience sat formed the -wings and rear of the stage scenery, thus producing an effect more -realistic than could have been attained by painted canvas. A spacious -and splendid arched casement facing the audience made a part of this -refectory; the scene had been purposely timed with regard to the moon's -course, and it was no mock planet, but the real silver orb of night -that shone through the panes of stained glass from a sky of darkest -blue. The moonlight without contrasted curiously with the glow cast by -the lamps pendent from the vaulted roof of the supposed banqueting hall. - -A feast was taking place, given by King Alboin to celebrate his victory -over Cunimund. Historically speaking, the memorable and fatal banquet -with which the name of Rosamond is associated, happened several years -after the defeat of the Gepid king, but for the sake of dramatic effect -Lorelie had represented it as the immediate consequence of that defeat. - -Robed in purple, and with a jewelled diadem upon his head, sat Alboin, -and beside him, and now his chief counsellor, the traitor-bishop -Paulinus, whose episcopal attire was stiff with brocade and gems. -Disposed along the board with picturesque effect were the Lombard -chiefs and warriors, all arrayed in gleaming mail. - -The royal table glittered with a profusion of plate. The shelves of a -carved oaken sideboard were filled with a variety of golden and silver -vessels. The stage twinkled with so many dazzling points of light that -it became hurtful to gaze too long upon it. All the Ravengar heirlooms -were being paraded in this banqueting-scene, probably to impress the -visitors with the extent of the Ravengar wealth. - -"Are those jewels, and is that plate real?" muttered Idris, examining -them through a lorgnette. - -"All genuine, and not stage-property. I was once promised," murmured -Beatrice in a dreamy manner, "I was once promised a moiety of that -wealth.--I wonder, Cousin Idris, whether you will keep your word: for -it is all yours, or soon will be." - -Idris did not catch the last part of her utterance, but he had heard -enough to understand whence came all this display. - -"The Viking's treasure!" he cried in wonderment. "But that -blue-gleaming cup that the earl is lifting to his lips!--that cannot be -a sapphire: it must be coloured glass." - -"It is a real gem, I assure you. Isn't it a lovely thing? There cannot -be its equal in the wide world. And think of it! Ivar was on the point -of selling it, and other rarities, but fortunately, Lorelie stopped him -in time. But I'll reserve that story." - -The walls of the supposed banqueting hall were hung with tapestry, -sufficient in length to drape both the wings and the background. -This arras, decorated with figures in needlework, was obviously very -ancient, apparently one of the Ravengar heirlooms employed to give an -air of antiquity to the refectory-scene. - -It was somewhat difficult to obtain a clear view of this tapestry owing -to the intervention of the banqueting-table and the picturesque figures -grouped around it; but, bringing his lorgnette to bear upon such parts -of it as were visible, Idris observed that one of its needlework -pictures was subscribed with the words:--"ORMUS HILDAM NUBIT." - -"Orm weds Hilda," he muttered. "By heaven! that is the tapestry that -once decorated the interior of the Viking's tomb!" - -"True," returned Beatrice. "But--we are losing the words of the play." - -This last was quite true. So occupied had Idris been in contemplating -the scenic effects, that he had not yet caught a word of the act then -in progress. - -Fixing his attention upon the dialogue Idris noticed that Alboin (or -Ivar) was inviting his companions-in-arms to drink to their recent -victory. While speaking he lifted on high his own goblet, a goblet of -a very curious character, for it was fashioned from a human skull, -supposedly that of the fallen Cunimund. The upper portion of the -cranium had been sawn off, and being attached to the lower part by -silver hinges, formed the lid of the grim drinking-vessel. - -"Do you recognize the relic taken by you from Ormfell?" asked Beatrice. - -"That cup is not the 'Viking's' skull," returned Idris decisively, as -he surveyed it through his glasses. "Its colour is white: mine was a -yellowish-brown. Now, notice the lid; it is lifted and turned towards -us: it ought to contain a circular perforation, but there is none, you -see. Trust me, I know my relic too well to be deceived." - -"You are quite right, Cousin Idris: the cup now in Ivar's hands is -_not_ the 'Viking's' skull; being merely the one used in the rehearsal. -It would have been a betraying of her purpose had Lorelie employed the -real relic, but it will make its appearance soon." - -She turned her attention to the dialogue again, and Idris did the same, -wondering what the end of it would be. - -Extending the skull-cup to a slave, Ivar-Alboin cried, in the words of -history:-- - -"Fill this goblet to the brim: carry it to the queen, and bid her in my -name drink to the memory of her father." - -The attendant poured wine into the cup and carried it off the stage -for the purpose of presenting it to Queen Rosamond. And pre-informed -by Beatrice, Idris knew that the goblet carried out would not be the -same as that which would be brought in. Lorelie would enter with the -identical skull taken from Ormfell. Why should this be? He awaited the -sequel with breathless interest, an interest that would have been far -more intense had he known with what person Godfrey had connected this -same skull. But some things had been kept from the knowledge of Idris, -and this was one of them. - -The advent of Queen Rosamond was heralded by music of a singular -character. The softer and more melodious instrument ceased, and there -arose a threnody drawn entirely from violin-chords and from the -metallic wires of the harp--a threnody that was staccato, shivering, -weird. The faint whisperings which had been going on here and there -among the audience instantly ceased: every one sat spellbound, thrilled -with awe by that unearthly music, as if it were a prelude to the -entrance of Death himself. - -Idris recognized the air as the requiem that was never heard except at -the death of a Ravengar. That it should now be played seemed suggestive -of some coming tragedy. He learned from Beatrice that this requiem had -formed no part of the rehearsals: and, indeed, the wondering looks -interchanged among the amateurs on the stage showed that it came upon -them as a surprise. Idris was not slow to mark the perturbed air of the -earl-bishop. If it were Lorelie's object to unnerve him, she had to -some extent succeeded. - -Amid this eerie refrain Queen Rosamond slowly entered the banqueting -hall, carrying in her hands the dread cup, the fatal skull of her -father Cunimund. The eyes of every one, both on and off the stage, were -riveted upon her movements. She had exhibited splendid acting in the -two previous scenes; was she now about to surpass herself? - -She was robed in a vesture of violet satin, embroidered with gold, that -shimmered as she moved; and in her flowing raven hair there gleamed -an ornament that gave Idris a thrill of surprise, for he immediately -recognized it as the stiletto hair-pin that had wrought the fatal deed -in Ormfell. - -By aid of the lorgnette he surveyed the object she was carrying. Yes: -that golden-brown thing was indeed the 'Viking's skull,' set in silver, -and mounted as a cup--a cup in appearance only, for the cranium was -perfect and entire, and had not been fashioned into a lid. - -Rosamond had entered through an arched door in the wall on the -right-hand side of the stage. Ivar-Alboin's throne was on the extreme -left, and therefore to reach him it was necessary to traverse the -entire length of the stage. - -Slowly, very slowly, she advanced with silent and majestic tread, -holding aloft the fatal skull. - -To Idris, the moment was one of thrilling interest. He felt that the -crucial point of the experiment had come: the object for which Lorelie -had caused her play to be staged was now about to be disclosed. - -Not a word passed Lorelie's lips as she moved forward, the ghostly -_tremolo_ music going on all the time. She looked neither to right nor -left: she had eyes for one person only, and that was the earl, and him -she regarded with the air of a triumphant accuser. - -And the earl, observant of her manner, and always suspicious of her -since that memorable night in the vault, dreading lest she should have -divined his purpose in taking her there, grew troubled. It began to -dawn upon him that Lorelie had an ulterior purpose in staging her play, -a purpose fraught with ill to himself. His eye rested on the skull she -was carrying: he noted the difference, yet no inkling of her real aim -entered his mind. He stared at her, trying to read her thoughts: she -returned his gaze: their looks became a silent duel. - -At last she reached the place where Alboin sat. The shivering music -came to an end, enabling her voice to be heard. - -"Ere I comply with my lord-king's request," she said, addressing Ivar, -and using the words of the play, "let me learn from whose skull I -drink." - -She set the relic upon the table, keeping one hand over the cranium. -Idris felt that she did this for the purpose of hiding the fatal -perforation. But though her words were addressed to Ivar, she did not -for one moment remove her eyes from the earl's face. - -"It is the skull of thy late sire, the royal Cunimund." - -"Not so, husband mine," she cried, with a sudden change of voice that -startled everybody present, actors and spectators alike, "not so! Let -us leave acting and be real.--Tell me, my lord of Ravenhall," she said, -bending over the table and addressing the earl in a thrilling sibilant -whisper that penetrated to every part of the hall, "_tell me, whose -skull is this?_" - -She withdrew her hand from the skull and pointed to the orifice in the -cranium. - -A strange gasp broke from the earl. He cast one glance of fear at -Lorelie, and then sat with parted lips and dilated eyes staring at -the thing before him. Lorelie's significant manner, his own guilty -conscience, the circular perforation in the occiput, were sufficient -to tell him whose skull it was. In one swift awful moment he realized -that his secret was known to the woman whom he had most reason to -fear, and he intuitively divined that she was about to make it known -to all present. And then? He gasped for breath; his throat seemed to -be compressed: he twitched at it with his fingers as if to loosen some -tightly-drawn noose. - -He knew now why she had shewn such persistency in urging him to take -part in the play. "Only a minor part, a few words to utter, nothing -more," had been her plea. He knew now why she had flattered, insisted, -threatened: her motive was to surprise and confuse him: to entrap him -into a confession by suddenly producing the skull before his eyes. - -And she had nearly succeeded. Sudden amazement had almost wrung the -secret from him. He compressed his lips tightly: he must not speak, -lest by some incautious word he should betray himself. Silence! -Silence! there lay his safety. With such cunning had he overlaid all -traces of the crime that it could not be proved except by his own -confession. - -The audience, after a glance at the play-book, looked at each other -in bewilderment, wondering why the viscountess had departed from the -written words of her drama. Instead of playing as finely as heretofore, -she had actually committed the gross blunder of addressing the Bishop -Paulinus as, "My lord of Ravenhall!" - -Receiving no answer to her question, for the earl sat silent and -motionless, Lorelie rested her hand upon the table, lightly shook the -sleeve of her silken dress, and the next moment the runic altar-ring -was sparkling on her wrist. - -"By the sacred ring of Odin, stolen by you from Edith Breakspear, I -adjure you, speak! Whose skull is this?" - -Something like a groan issued from the earl's lips. So, his theft of -the ring was likewise known to this terrible woman!--a theft committed -so long ago that it had almost faded from his memory: and, lo! here the -deed was, starting up to confront him after a lapse of twenty-three -years! - -[Illustration] - -For a moment he forgot his present position: the stage, the lights, -the audience, all were gone. He found himself again in that quiet -twilight chamber at Quilaix; again he saw the sad eyes, the pale -face of the woman from whom he had taken the ring: again her solemn -utterance sounded in his ears:--"If it should bring upon you the curse -which it has brought upon me and mine, you will live to rue this day." - -The voice of Lorelie speaking again, roused him from his reverie. - -"By this hoarded treasure, gained at the price of blood, I adjure you, -speak! Whose skull is this?" - -Mechanically his eyes wandered over the festal-board with its array -of plate and jewels. The splendid parade of wealth made his present -position only the more ghastly. Like a spectre from the tomb Nemesis -arose to mock him amid the very riches which his guilt had purchased. - -A silence had fallen both upon actors and audience. They had begun -to catch a glimpse of the true meaning of this strange tableau. As -motionless as statues they sat: they scarcely breathed: it would have -required an earthquake or the conflagration of the hall itself to have -moved them. - -In silent despair the earl looked around upon the array of still faces -set with earnest attention upon him, and then he turned again to the -skull. All lifeless as it was, it was victor over him to-day. It seemed -to be grinning at him in conscious mockery. Powerless itself to speak -it had found a mouthpiece, an avenger, in the person of Lorelie. - -Why had he allowed this woman to leave the secret vault, where her life -had been in his hands? He might have known that she would never rest -till she had avenged herself upon him. - -He looked into the depth of her dark blue eyes--eyes that were -steeled to pity. "Like for like," they seemed to say: she would show -him the same mercy that he would have shown her, though in truth, -Lorelie thought not of herself, but of the dead Eric Marville, so -cruelly wronged both by her father and herself: Eric Marville, who had -generously refrained from claiming the peerage justly his in order that -the present earl might enjoy it. And he had received his death-stroke -from the hand of the very man whom he had benefited! Was this a case -for pity! - -"By yon tapestry, silent witness of the deed, I adjure you, speak! -Whose skull is this?" - -A portion of the arras within view of the earl was clutched from behind -by an unseen hand, and was suddenly rent in twain from top to bottom -with a sharp ripping sound: then came the fall of some dull body, -(though nothing was seen by the audience), followed by a faint soughing -like an expiring breath. - -The earl shook convulsively. The very sounds that had accompanied the -fall of his victim in Ormfell! - -With slow motion Lorelie raised her hand to her head. The earl followed -her action with his eyes, wondering what new terror was in store -for him. Drawing the broken stiletto pin from her hair she placed -the fragment of the blade within the orifice of the skull, where it -remained, the jewelled hilt projecting above, and glittering with weird -effect. - -"By the very stiletto that let out the life of your victim, I adjure -you, speak! Whose skull is this?" - -She was determined to have her answer, and that openly. - -In darkness and secrecy the deed had been wrought: amid brilliant light -and before a crowd of hearers the truth should be proclaimed. Like some -struggling victim in the torture-chamber, who, doggedly speechless, is -forced onward to the rack that will soon wring the confession from his -reluctant lips, so the earl, in dumb agony, felt himself drawn onward -to tell the dread secret of his life. - -The jewelled hilt of the stiletto protruding from the skull exercized -a fascination over him: he could not take his gaze from it: like a -gleaming eye it seemed to be commanding him to admit his guilt. - -Idris, attentive to every variation in the face of the earl, saw that -he was sinking into a cataleptic state. Unable to obtain the required -confession in any other way Lorelie had resorted to her knowledge of -hypnotism, and had found the earl powerless to resist her mesmeric -influence. - -"Speak! Whose skull is this?" she asked once more. - -"_My brother's._" - -The earl spoke like an automaton, in a tone, cold, mechanical, -passionless--a tone he maintained throughout the whole of his -subsequent answering. - -A wave of surprise passed over the audience. Till that moment it had -not been known that Urien Ravengar, the preceding earl, had had more -than one son. - -"When did your brother die?" - -"Twenty-one years ago." - -"In what place did he die?" - -"In the interior of Ormfell." - -"How came he to die?" - -"_I killed him!_" - -At this answer a thrill pervaded the assembly. Half-articulate screams -arose from the ladies. From fair jewelled hands play-bills and books of -the words slid to the floor. There they lay unheeded, being no longer -required. The sham-tragedy was over: a new and unrehearsed drama of -real life was taking place before their eyes, and the audience bent -forward to watch and to listen. - -Ivar, with a troubled look, rose at this point and made an attempt to -stay Lorelie's action. - -"Let down the curtain," he cried to an attendant in the wings. "What -devil's work is this?" he continued, turning fiercely upon his wife. -"Let it cease! Restore my father to his normal state. You have -mesmerized him, and, mistress of his mind, you are making him say -whatever you wish. Do you think that any one here believes him?" - -One word from her, one imperious gesture, one flash of her eyes, was -sufficient to quell Ivar's opposition. - -"_Malvazia!_" she whispered, pointing to the sapphire cup. - -The viscount shrank back, knowing that the hour of his fall and -humiliation was at hand. - -"Let none intervene," said Lorelie, addressing her audience with quiet -dignity. - -And during the remainder of the scene there was neither movement nor -sound on the part of the spectators, not even from Idris and Ivar, the -two persons most interested in the dialogue. - -In cold measured tones Lorelie proceeded with her merciless catechism. - -"Was he a younger brother?" - -"My senior by three years." - -"Why was he not acknowledged by your father, the late earl?" - -"He was the son of a secret marriage--a marriage with a village maiden -named Agnes Marville." - -"Where can the record of this marriage be found?" - -"In the parish church of Oakhurst in Kent." - -"Your father did not tell this Agnes that he was a peer of the realm: -and, as soon as a son was born, he deserted her: nay, more, while she -was still living he made a second marriage, which, therefore, renders -your own birth illegitimate. Is not this so?" - -"Yes." - -"When did the son of this Agnes discover that he was the rightful heir -of Ravenhall?" - -"On attaining manhood." - -"What course did he take?" - -"He wrote a letter to my father to the effect that as that father had -repudiated him in infancy he on his part would accept the repudiation." - -"And so, waiving his just rights, he went to live in Brittany under the -name of Eric Marville. Why did you, too, leave England about the same -time?" - -"The letter written by Eric fell into my hands and caused a quarrel -between my father and myself." - -"Did you, when abroad, ever see your half-brother?" - -"During his trial I stood among the spectators." - -"Did you not make yourself known to him?" - -"No, for I hated him." - -"Did you show your hatred in any way?" - -"I secretly promised his prosecuting counsel a large sum if he should -secure a conviction." - -"How long did you remain abroad?" - -"Ten years." - -"And by a strange coincidence on the very night of your return to -Ravenhall your brother's yacht went down in Ormsby Race. You believed -he had gone down with it, till----?" - -"Till he surprised me in Ormfell as I was in the act of removing the -treasure." - -"Let us hear what took place." - -"We quarrelled. He had discovered the part I had played in the trial at -Nantes, and also that it was I who had taken the runic ring from his -wife. He threatened to assert his claim to the earldom, and so I struck -him down with a stiletto hair-pin, the only weapon I had upon me at the -time." - -"How did you dispose of the body?" - -"I left it, covered with quicklime, in Ormfell, so that, if ever -discovered, it might be taken for the remains of some ancient warrior." - -"Did your brother have any children?" - -"One son." - -"Who is, of course, the rightful earl of Ormsby. By what name is this -son known?" - -"Idris Breakspear." - -Lorelie put no more questions. She had discovered what she wished. -Light had been cast on dark places and all was clear. She had made her -atonement to Idris: and, with a significant glance at the balcony where -he sat, she waved her hand, and at that signal the curtain descended. - -Ere the amazed audience had time to exchange remarks the earl's voice -was again heard, proceeding from the other side of the curtain. - -"What do you say, Ivar?" he cried, in wild staccato utterances. "I -have accused myself ... of murder?... That my title ... and yours -... are invalid? It is false!... Gentlemen, I am not responsible ... -for my utterances.... This woman hates me.... She is a hypnotizer -... has taken my mind captive ... made me say ... whatever suits her -purpose.... Pay no heed to anything I have said ... in this state ... -of----" - -His utterance was checked by a fit of coughing, followed by a strange -gasp, and then all was still. - -The next moment one of the amateur actors appeared at the side of the -stage-curtain and beckoned to Godfrey, who, his part having ceased with -the first act, had taken his place amongst the audience. The surgeon -passed behind the curtain, then quickly reappeared. - -"Get the company away as quickly as can be managed," he whispered to -the steward of Ravenhall, "the earl is dead!" - - - - -CHAPTER XX - -FINALE - - -"The earl dead!" murmured Beatrice in a tone of awe. "Death! _That_ was -no part of Lorelie's design." And, after a brief pause, she added, "It -is the judgment of God." - -Awe-struck by the terrible ending of the play the whispering guests -began a hurried departure. Idris, however, at Godfrey's suggestion, -remained behind. - -The body of Olave Ravengar, _un_-lawful Earl of Ormsby, was carried to -the chamber usually assigned to the lying-in-state of the dead lords of -Ravenhall. - -Having attended to this duty Ivar, passing through the entrance-hall, -suddenly caught sight of Idris in conversation with Godfrey. - -For a moment he stared superciliously at his rival. - -"Impostor!" he muttered, with affected indignation. "John! Roger!" he -continued, addressing two tall footmen who stood near, "put this fellow -outside the park gates." - -"Perhaps," said Godfrey, quietly, "as your title is at present in -question, it will be well to wait till it be legally ascertained -whether you have the right to give orders here." - -Ivar scowled, first at the speaker, then at the throng of mute and -immovable servants, who showed little disposition to acknowledge his -authority. - -His mind reverted to Lorelie, the author of this, his downfall: had -she chosen to keep his secret he might have retained his usurped rank. -She should suffer for this: she at least was his, if Ravenhall were -not, and he would exercise his authority by applying a horsewhip to -her shoulders. It would be a pleasure to hear her screams! Yes: he -would do it, though his father were lying dead in the house. There was -an additional pleasure in the thought that by subjecting Lorelie to -indignity and humiliation he would be mortifying Idris. - -"Where is Lady Walden?" he demanded, turning upon one of the servants. -"I must," he continued, with an ugly smile at Idris, "I must have a -word with her." - -"Your wife--she repudiates the title of Lady Walden--is now at Wave -Crest," replied Godfrey. "I am desired by her to state that you will -never see her again." - -"Indeed?" sneered Ivar, haughtily. "She shall return. A wife's place is -by her husband's side." - -"That sentiment comes with an ill grace from an adulterer who once -offered his wife poison to drink," responded Godfrey. - -Ivar grew white to the very lips. - -"What do you mean?" he muttered. "O, I see! Some wild accusation -of Lorelie's. Honourable gentlemen, ye are!" he continued, with an -assumption of dignity that sat somewhat awkwardly upon him. "Honourable -gentlemen, to corrupt a wife, and use her as a tool against her -husband! This stage-play of to-night, this hypnotizing of my father's -mind, this forcing him to utter whatever you wish, has been very finely -arranged on the part of you all. It is a plot to deprive me of my -rights. You shall hear what my solicitor has to say on the matter. It -is one thing to claim an estate, and another to make good the claim." - -"Quite so," replied Godfrey, who acted as spokesman for Idris, since -the latter was too much bewildered by the novelty and strangeness of -his position to say anything: "quite so. And therefore we have invited -your solicitor to an interview with us to-morrow morning at ten o'clock -in the library, when I trust you will be present, for we shall offer -you abundant proofs of our position." - -On the following morning Ivar repaired to the library, where he found -the late earl's solicitor in company with Idris and Godfrey. - -Ivar was well aware that Idris was the rightful heir of Ravenhall. -His only hope was that the other might find it impossible to prove -the legitimacy of his title. But in this he was quickly doomed to -disappointment. - -With a face that grew darker and darker he listened to the evidence -that had been accumulated by the joint labours of Lorelie and Beatrice. -The prior and secret marriage of the old earl, Urien Ravengar, with -the village maiden, Agnes Marville: the birth of a child named Eric, -together with Idris' legitimate filiation to the latter, were all -clearly set forth. - -The lawyer was at first disposed to be sceptical, but became fully -convinced in the end. - -"I fear it is of no use to dispute the evidence," he whispered to Ivar. -"Contest the claim and you're sure to lose. Better to appeal to the -generosity of your newfound cousin and heir, and try to come to some -monetary arrangement with him." - -Ivar sat for a few minutes in moody silence. Then, looking up and -scowling at Idris, he muttered:-- - -"If I've got to give up Ravenhall, I may as well go at once. I won't be -beholden to that fellow for a roof." - -"Surely you will remain till your father's funeral shall have taken -place?" said Idris. - -"Damn the funeral!" muttered the late viscount, savagely. "What good -shall I do myself by waiting for it? Will it bring the governor -back to life? I'll not stay here to be pitied, and jeered at, as -the discoroneted viscount. You killed my father by your wiles. You -yourselves can now bury him." - -And with these words he passed through the doorway and was gone: and -even the coroner's summons failed to secure his attendance at the -inquest held upon the body of the earl. Lorelie was present, and, after -giving her evidence, quietly withdrew, accompanied by Beatrice. - -But when Idris, a few hours later, called at Wave Crest, he was met on -the threshold by Beatrice with the tidings that Lorelie had left Ormsby. - -"Where has she gone?" - -"Indeed I do not know," replied Beatrice, who looked the picture of -grief. "She would not tell me her destination or plans. I did my best -to persuade her to stay, but in vain." - - * * * * * * - -A year after Lorelie's disappearance there occurred in a society-paper -a paragraph relative to an event which, however melancholy in itself, -could scarcely be viewed by Idris with any other feeling than that of -satisfaction. This event was the death of Ivar, who was said to have -been carried off by fever in an obscure lodging in London. Inquiries -on the part of Idris proved that the story was true: and he found, -moreover, that Ivar, in his last hours, had been nursed by a lady whose -description answered to that of Lorelie. - -The forgiving and generous disposition evinced by this act did but -endear her the more to Idris. - -But where was she? He was certain that she loved him. Why then did she -continue to hide herself? - -All attempts on his part to trace her failed completely: and a -haunting fear seized him that she had retired for life to the seclusion -of a French convent. - -Two years went by, and Idris had almost given up the hope of ever -seeing her again, when, passing one afternoon by the Church of St. -Oswald, he heard the sound of its organ. - -Attracted, partly by the music, partly by the thought that it was in -this church that he had first set eyes upon Lorelie, he entered the -Ravengar Chantry, and sat down to listen. - -Something in the style of the music caused a strange suspicion to -steal over him. He rose, walked quietly forward, and gazed up at the -organ-loft. - -The musician was Lorelie! - -Screening himself from view he waited till she had finished her -playing: waited till she had dismissed her attendant-boy, and then -quietly intercepted her as she was passing through the Ravengar Chantry. - -She started, and seemed almost dismayed at seeing him. - -"I--I did not know you were at Ormsby," she murmured. "I thought you -were on the Continent." - -"Lorelie, where have you been so long?" - -"I have been living in the south of France for the past two years. A -few days ago a longing came upon me to see Ormsby once more, and----" - -She ceased speaking, and her eyes drooped as Idris gently held her by -the wrists. - -"And now that you _are_ here," he said, "do you think that I shall ever -let you go again? Lorelie, you know how much I love you. Why, then, -have you avoided me? But for you I should not now possess a coronet: is -it not fair that you should share it?" - -"No: Idris, this must not be," she murmured, gently essaying to free -herself. "There is one who loves you better than I--one more deserving -of your love." - -"And who is that?" - -"Beatrice." - -"And is it on her account that you have absented yourself so long, -willing to sacrifice your own happiness to hers? Lorelie, you are too -generous. Beatrice is indeed a charming and pretty maiden, and had I -never seen you I might perhaps have loved her. I had the conceit that -she might be growing fond of me, so I took steps to cure her of the -fancy." - -"How?" asked Lorelie, with wondering eyes. - -"By showing her that there are much finer fellows than myself in -existence. With Godfrey's consent I took her to London. At Ormsby I was -a hero in her eyes, for there were few here with whom she might measure -me: but in London it was different. 'Pretty Miss Ravengar' became quite -an attraction in Society. Eligible young men surrounded her, eager for -a glance and a smile: and--well--to make my story short, next spring -we shall have to address our little Trixie as Lady St. Cyril. She will -have half the Viking's treasure as her dowry. And so, you see, my sweet -countess----" - -Their lips drew near and met in one long, clinging kiss. - -In the circle of Idris' arms Lorelie found a refuge from all her -past troubles. Fair and clear before her the future lay like a -sunny sparkling lake with one barque gliding over it: Idris was the -steersman, and she had nothing to do but to lie back on silken pillows, -still and happy, and float wherever he chose to direct. - - -THE END - - - - -_By the Author of "The Viking's Skull"_ - -THE SHADOW OF THE CZAR - -By JOHN R. CARLING - -Illustrated. 12mo. $1.50. _Fifth Edition_ - -"An engrossing romance of the sturdy, wholesome sort, in which the -action is never allowed to drag," (_St. Louis Globe-Democrat_) best -describes this popular novel. "The Shadow of the Czar" is a stirring -story of the romantic attachment of a dashing English officer for -Princess Barbara, of the old Polish Principality of Czernova, and the -conspiracy of the Duke of Bora, aided by Russia, to dispossess the -Princess of her throne. - -It is not an historical novel--the author makes his own events after -the manner of Anthony Hope, and the _Boston Herald_ is of the opinion -that it "excels in interest Anthony Hope's best efforts." "Rarely do we -find a story in which more happens, or in which the incidents present -themselves with more suddenness and with greater surprise," says the -New York Sun. - -"Mr. Carling has a surprising faculty of making it appear that things -ought to have happened as he says they did, and as long as the book is -being read he even succeeds in making it appear that they did happen -so," says the _St. Louis Star_. - -"The Shadow of the Czar" fairly captivated two countries. In England -the _Newcastle Daily Journal_ says it "transcends in interest 'The -Prisoner of Zenda.'" - -LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., PUBLISHERS -BOSTON, MASS. - - -_A Stirring Tale of the Plains_ - -THE RAINBOW CHASERS - -By JOHN H. WHITSON - -Author of "Barbara, A Woman of the West," etc. - -Illustrated. 12mo. $1.50 - -Full of the atmosphere of the West, with a cowboy, land speculator, -and lover for its hero, Mr. Whitson's new novel, without being in the -least a copy, has many of the attractions of Mr. Wister's hero, "The -Virginian." - -"The Rainbow Chasers" is a virile American novel and treats of the -elemental forces of Western life and the results of the great fever -of speculation in land. The prairies and forests of the West are -the scenes which the author has chosen for a novel which is full of -interest and strength. - -The characters of the story are vigorous men, men with red blood in -their veins, men of action who build up new communities. - - -_A New Romance by the Author of "The Shadow of the Czar"_ - -THE VIKING'S SKULL - -By JOHN R. CARLING, author of "The Shadow of the Czar," etc. -Illustrated. 12mo. $1.50 - -Mr. Carling has written a spirited story of love and adventure, with an -ingeniously constructed plot, which tells how Idris Marville, true Earl -of Ormsby, recovered a treasure hidden by one of his progenitors,--a -Viking of the Ninth Century,--and how he cleared the memory of his -father, who had been wrongfully convicted of murder. There are many -powerful scenes in the book and abundant love interest. The whole story -is exceptionally strong, dramatic, vivid, and interest-compelling. - -LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., PUBLISHERS -BOSTON, MASS. - - -_The Story of a Man's Triumph over the Flesh_ - -THE WOOD-CARVER OF 'LYMPUS - -By MARY E. WALLER, author of "A Daughter of the Rich," etc. -Illustrated. 12mo. $1.50 - -The hero of Miss Waller's new story is one of the most powerful and -original characters portrayed in recent fiction. Hugh Armstrong, used -to a busy out-of-door life, in felling a tree meets with an accident -and loses the use of his limbs. At first he finds it impossible to -adjust himself to his shut-in life, but a friend suggests wood-carving -to him. Through work and love a great change comes over him, and the -author has portrayed to us in a powerful manner Armstrong's salvation. -The scenes are laid in the Green Mountains of Vermont. - - -_A New Novel of Present-Day Virginia Life_ - -WHERE THE TIDE COMES IN - -By LUCY MEACHAM THRUSTON, author of "Mistress Brent," "A Girl of -Virginia," etc. Illustrated. - -12mo. $1.50 - -In her new story Mrs. Thruston portrays a heroine as charming as her -delightful "Girl of Virginia." The scenes of the novel are laid at -Norfolk and Portsmouth, and the vicissitudes of the Southern vegetable -farmer, who depends on the irrepressible negro, are strongly pictured. -The novel is a genuine love-story with a touch of politics, and the -Southern atmosphere is delightfully unhackneyed. - -LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., PUBLISHERS -BOSTON, MASS. - - -_The Story of an American Woman's Summer Abroad_ - -A WOMAN'S WILL - -By ANNE WARNER. Illustrated. 12mo. $1.50 - -A brilliant and entertaining love-story is this, narrated almost wholly -in dialogue, the hero being a German of rank, and a famous violin -player and composer, and the heroine, an American widow, whose marriage -had been an unhappy one. The charm of the story is in the skilfully -drawn characters, the bright dialogue, and the realistic painting of -the scenes in which the events take place, Munich, Zurich, and Lucerne. - - -_A Tale of Norway in the Tenth Century_ - -THE NORTH STAR - -By M. E. HENRY-RUFFIN. Illustrated. 12mo. $1.50 - -This Viking romance is a tale of love and adventure with King Olaf -Tryggveson for the hero. The story opens with a scene at a fair in -Ireland, where Olaf meets a beautiful Irish princess, and later changes -to Norway, where Olaf returns to be received as King. Such history and -legend as have come to us of that time furnish fertile imagination a -frame for stirring incident and rapid action. - - -_By the Author of "The God of Things"_ - -THE EFFENDI - -By FLORENCE BROOKS WHITEHOUSE. With illustrations 12mo. $1.50 - -The Prologue of this engrossing romance of the Soudan deals with the -siege of Khartoum and the death of the hero, Gordon, and the Epilogue -with the retribution which England exacted from the Arab hordes. -Between the two is placed a dramatic story of love and adventure. - -LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., PUBLISHERS -BOSTON, MASS. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Viking's Skull, by John R. 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Carling. - </title> - <style type="text/css"> - - p { margin-top: .75em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .75em; - } - - p.bold {text-align: center; font-weight: bold;} - p.bold2 {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-size: 150%;} - - h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; - } - h1 span, h2 span { display: block; text-align: center; } - #id1 { font-size: smaller } - - - hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; - } - - body{margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; - } - - table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 5px; border-collapse: collapse; border: none; text-align: right;} - - .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ - /* visibility: hidden; */ - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; - text-indent: 0px; - } /* page numbers */ - - .center {text-align: center;} - .smaller {font-size: smaller;} - .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - .space-above {margin-top: 3em;} - .right {text-align: right;} - .left {text-align: left;} - - .poem {display: inline-block; text-align: left;} - .poem br {display: none;} - .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} - .poem div {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem div.i2 {margin-left: 2em;} - .poem div.i6 {margin-left: 6em;} - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Viking's Skull, by John R. Carling - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll -have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using -this ebook. - - - -Title: The Viking's Skull - -Author: John R. Carling - -Release Date: October 3, 2019 [EBook #60414] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE VIKING'S SKULL *** - - - - -Produced by Tim Lindell, Martin Pettit and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="center"><a name="cover.jpg" id="cover.jpg"></a><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="cover" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">[Pg i]</a></span></p> - -<p class="bold2">The Viking's Skull</p> - -<hr /> - -<div class="center"><a name="frontispiece.jpg" id="frontispiece.jpg"></a><img src="images/frontispiece.jpg" alt="frontispiece" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="center"><img src="images/title.jpg" alt="title page" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[Pg iii]</a></span></p> - -<h1>The Viking's Skull</h1> - -<p class="bold space-above">By</p> - -<p class="bold2">John R. Carling</p> - -<p class="bold"><i>Author of "The Shadow of the Czar," etc., etc.</i></p> - -<p class="bold space-above">Boston<br />Little, Brown, and Company<br />1904</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[Pg iv]</a></span></p> - -<p class="center"><i>Copyright, 1903, 1904</i><br /><span class="smcap">By Little, Brown, and Company</span>.<br /> -———<br /><i>All rights reserved</i></p> - -<p class="center space-above">Published March, 1904</p> - -<p class="center space-above">HUBLEY PRINTING CO. L'T'D<br />TYPESETTERS AND ELECTROTYPERS<br />YORK, PA., U. S. A.</p> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Presswork by<br />The University Press, Cambridge, U. S. A.</span></p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span></p> - -<h2>Contents</h2> - -<table summary="CONTENTS"> - <tr> - <td colspan="3" class="center">PROLOGUE</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="left"><span class="smcap">Chapter</span></td> - <td><span class="smcap">Page</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>I. </td> - <td class="left">"<span class="smcap">The English Lady</span>"</td> - <td><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>II. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Runic Ring</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>III. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">A Retrospect</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_18">18</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>IV. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">Tragedy!</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_26">26</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="3" class="center"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="3" class="center">THE STORY</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>I. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Ravengars of Ravenhall</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_44">44</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>II. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Mystery of the Reliquary</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_57">57</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>III. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">Idris Redivivus</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>IV. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Secret of the Runic Ring</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_82">82</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>V. </td> - <td class="left">"<span class="smcap">The Shadow of the Oft-carried Throne</span>"</td> - <td><a href="#Page_92">92</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>VI. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Fires of the Asas!</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_106">106</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>VII. </td> - <td class="left">"<span class="smcap">Within the Lofty Tomb</span>"</td> - <td><a href="#Page_119">119</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>VIII. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">Lorelie Rivière</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_132">132</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>IX. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">Idris Meets a Rival</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_150">150</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>X. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">A Little Piece of Steel</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_165">165</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XI. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Legend of the Runic Ring</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_178">178</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XII. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">Idris Declares His Love</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_197">197</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XIII. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">At Lorelie's Villa</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_209">209</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</a></span>XIV. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">Told by the Vase</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_232">232</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XV. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">A Packet of Old Letters</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_245">245</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XVI. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">Lorelie at Ravenhall</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_264">264</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XVII. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Secret of the Funeral Crypt</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_277">277</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XVIII. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">A Craniological Experiment</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_300">300</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XIX. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Vengeance of the Skull</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_318">318</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XX. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">Finale</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_344">344</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span></p> - -<h2>List of Illustrations</h2> - -<table summary="List of Illustrations"> - <tr> - <td class="left">"The humming sea, as if bent on securing its victims, -came foaming with threatening rapidity"</td> - <td><a href="#frontispiece.jpg"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">"A dagger flashed from beneath his cloak"</td> - <td><i>Page</i> <a href="#i032.jpg"> 33</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">"A cry of surprise, rather than of alarm, broke from -him, as he caught sight of a full-sized human skeleton lying within"</td> - <td>" <a href="#i122.jpg"> 123</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">"'By the sacred ring of Odin, stolen by you from -Edith Breakspear, I adjure you, speak! Whose skull is this?'"</td> - <td>" <a href="#i336.jpg"> 336</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> - -<p class="bold2">THE VIKING'S SKULL</p> - -<h2>PROLOGUE</h2> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER I</span> <span class="smaller">"THE ENGLISH LADY"</span></h2> - -<p>On one of the granitic peninsulas of Western Brittany stands the -little town of Quilaix, situated in a hollow facing the sea. To the -ordinary tourist the place presents few features of interest beyond -its ivy-mantled church, whose doors bear the counterfeit presentment -of fishes carved in oak: which fact, when added to the name of the -edifice—<i>La Chapelle des Pêcheurs</i>—serves to indicate the general -occupation of the inhabitants.</p> - -<p>For the convenience of the fisher-folk an L-shaped stone pier has been -raised in the sea. The duty of watching over this structure, whose -stability was often threatened by the fury of the Atlantic, pertained -to Paul Marais, familiarly known as "Old Pol," who, to his office of -harbour-master added likewise that of collector of the customs.</p> - -<p>Paul Marais dwelt in the street called, perhaps by way of satire, -La Grande. His house was a quaint mixture of timber and stone, with -dormer lattices set in the red tiles of the roof. It leaned against its -neighbour for support, with every doorway and window-frame out of the -perpendicular. Yet it had stood firm during three centuries, and would -probably continue to stand during as many more.</p> - -<p>One chill afternoon in March Old Pol was sauntering<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> to and fro in -front of his house, thoughtfully smoking a pipe. After half an hour -spent in this pleasant idling he suddenly quickened his pace and -entered his abode, passing to the parlour with its red-tiled sanded -floor, where, around the bright polished <i>chaufferette</i> sat Madame -Marais and three or four old dames, all busily knitting, and all -enjoying those pleasures dear to the heart of every Breton woman, to -wit, cider and gossip.</p> - -<p>"Celestine," said Pol, "the diligence is coming."</p> - -<p>"Paul Marais," replied his wife with tart dignity, "don't be a fool."</p> - -<p>And Pol, expecting no other answer, whistled softly and withdrew.</p> - -<p>To explain madame's reproof it is necessary to state that two or three -years previously a gentleman calling himself a count had visited -Quilaix, and, charmed with the old-world air of the place, had dwelt in -Pol's house for the space of six months.</p> - -<p>The handsome profit derived by Pol on this occasion disposed him to -look forward to the coming of other visitors: but, alas! Quilaix is too -obscure to be mentioned in the ordinary manuals issued for the guidance -of tourists. The count's sojourn was an exception to the normal course -of events.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless Pol would not abandon hope; and, day by day, he awaited -the arrival of the diligence, for the purpose of inviting the chance -stranger to his own dwelling, before any other person should have the -opportunity of appropriating him.</p> - -<p>"Everything comes to the man who waits," muttered Pol to himself, as he -watched the distant vehicle swaying its zigzag course down the hillside -road. "This diligence is perhaps bringing me a visitor. Who can tell?"</p> - -<p>Twilight drew on; and, as the lamplighter was preparing the -illumination of La Rue Grande by the primitive<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> method of fixing an -oil-lantern to the middle of a rope slung across the street, the -diligence came up, but instead of going on as usual to the <i>auberge</i> in -the little market square, the driver stopped short in front of Pol's -house, and there alighted a young lady accompanied by a little boy, a -child of two years.</p> - -<p>"Madame Marais lives here?" she asked with an inquiring glance at Pol.</p> - -<p>"My wife's name," replied Pol. He pocketed his pipe, doffed his -cap, and bowed profoundly. "Permit me to lead you to her.—By the -saints," he muttered to himself, "a boarder at last, or may I lose my -harbour-mastership. Now, Celestine, it is my turn to laugh at you."</p> - -<p>The young lady, holding the child by the hand, followed Pol to the -parlour.</p> - -<p>"God bless you all, great and small," she said, using the greeting -customary in that part of Brittany.</p> - -<p>"Heaven bless you, too, stranger, whoever you may be," replied all, as -they rose and curtsied.</p> - -<p>This intercourse was conducted in the Breton tongue, the guttural -voices of Madame Marais and her companions forming a marked contrast -with the sweet voice of the stranger.</p> - -<p>"Can one have apartments here? The <i>voiturier</i> has assured me that one -can."</p> - -<p>Pol, about to reply with an eager affirmative, was checked by a glance -from his more cautious spouse, who was not disposed to give herself -away too easily or too cheaply.</p> - -<p>"It is not our custom to accommodate visitors," she replied, speaking -with great dignity. "At least, not as a rule. But still with a little -trouble we might arrange. How many rooms does madame require. Would -four be——"</p> - -<p>"That number will do. Will you let me see them?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p> - -<p>After a brief inspection the lady expressed her approval, being -especially pleased with the sitting-room, an apartment marked by a -charming air of antiquity. The oak flooring and pannelling were black -with age. Within the huge fireplace an ox could have been roasted -whole. Over the carved mantel was a boar's head, a trophy gained by Pol -in a hunting expedition among the Breton hills. On a dark oaken press -an ivory crucifix, browned by time, imparted a sort of solemnity to the -place.</p> - -<p>Terms were arranged; and the lady's luggage was brought in and -deposited up-stairs by the strong arm of Pol himself.</p> - -<p>"How long is madame likely to remain here?" asked the harbour-master's -wife, lingering with her hand on the handle of the sitting-room door.</p> - -<p>"Months. Years, perhaps," replied the stranger with a sad smile. "That -is," she went on, "if you are willing to let me stay so long."</p> - -<p>"And madame's name is——?"</p> - -<p>"Edith Breakspear."</p> - -<p>"Breakspear? Then madame is not French?" exclaimed the harbour-master's -wife, wondering to what nationality she should ascribe the name.</p> - -<p>"No, I am English," said the lady, with a faint touch of pride in her -voice.</p> - -<p>"Madame speaks the Breton like an angel."</p> - -<p>"I have lived a long time in Brittany."</p> - -<p>"Ah! madame loves Brittany," said the other, who like all Bretons was -intensely patriotic. "The climate reminds her of her own land. We -Bretons came from England. Centuries ago. And when we came we brought -the weather with us. Is it not so?"</p> - -<p>And with these words she smiled herself out of the room, and went -down-stairs to discuss the event with her cronies.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> - -<p>"She is going to pay me four Napoleons a week. Think of that now! It is -more than the count ever gave. <i>Ah, ciel!</i> but if I had been wearing my -best Sunday cap with its point lace and gold embroidery I could have -asked double. But how could one ask more with only a plain white cap -on, and a necklace of blue beads?"</p> - -<p>As may be guessed, the coming of a stranger into the little world of -Quilaix set the tongues of all the gossips wagging. The men were as -much interested as the women, and various were the surmises of the -nightly frequenters of the <i>Auberge des Pêcheurs</i> as to her previous -history. But of this they could learn nothing. Mrs. Breakspear let fall -no word as to her past, and even Madame Marais' keen eyes failed to -penetrate the veil of mystery that undoubtedly hung around "The English -lady."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Breakspear had not seen more than twenty-one summers; she was -in truth so girlish in appearance that the people of Quilaix could -scarcely bring their lips to use the matronly "Madame," but more -frequently addressed her as "Mademoiselle." It was clear that some -secret sorrow was casting its shadow over her young life. Her pale -face and subdued air, the sad expression in her eyes, were the visible -tokens of a grief, too strong to be repressed or forgotten.</p> - -<p>As she was always dressed in black the gossips concluded that she was -in mourning, the general opinion being that she had recently lost -her husband, though a few ill-natured persons sneered at the word -"husband," in spite of her gold wedding-ring.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Breakspear made no attempt to form friendships. Firmly, yet -without hauteur, she repelled all advances, from whatever quarter they -came. She seemed to desire no other companionship than that of her -child, Idris. He was evidently the one being that reconciled her to -life.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p> - -<p>Thus passed five years: and Mrs. Breakspear, though still as great a -mystery as ever to the people of Quilaix, ceased to occupy the chief -place in their gossip.</p> - -<p>Idris was now seven years old, a handsome little fellow, endowed with -an intelligence beyond his years.</p> - -<p>His education was undertaken solely by his mother, concerning whom the -opinion went, that, in the matter of learning, she was equal, if not -superior, to Monsieur le Curé, the only other person in the place with -any pretensions to scholarship.</p> - -<p>At the back of Quilaix rises the moorland, an extensive wind-swept -region, blossoming in early summer with the beautiful broom that -furnished our first Plantagenet with his crest and surname. Over this -brown, purple-dotted expanse run two white lines intersecting each -other in the shape of the letter X. These lines indicate the only two -roads over the moor; and, just at the point of intersection, there -stands an irregular block of grey stone buildings.</p> - -<p>The part of the moorland immediately above the town was the usual -place of study, that is, whenever the day was warm and sunny. Then, -mother and son would climb to some high point, and seat themselves on -the grass; and while the boy, with the breeze of heaven lifting the -curls from his temples, would endeavour to fix his eyes on his books, -Mrs. Breakspear would fix hers on the grey stone building. Nothing -else on land or sea seemed to have any interest for her. The distant -and beautiful hills would often change their colour from grey to -violet beneath the alternation of sunshine and cloud: ships with their -fair sails set would glide daily from the haven of Quilaix; bands of -Catholic pilgrims, bound for some local shrine, would occasionally -cross the moorland, carrying banners and singing hymns: sea-gulls would -wheel their screaming flight aloft: trout leap and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> gleam in the brook -at her feet. But Mrs. Breakspear had eyes for none of these things. Her -attention, when not given to Idris and his book, was set upon the lone, -dun edifice.</p> - -<p>On certain days human figures, dwarfed by the distance, would issue -from the building, spreading themselves in little groups over the -landscape; and, after remaining out some hours, would return upon the -firing of a gun. At such times Mrs. Breakspear would clasp her hands -and gaze wistfully on the distant moving figures.</p> - -<p>One day her emotion was too great to escape the boy's notice: and, -following the direction of her eyes, he said, speaking in English, the -language used by them when alone:—</p> - -<p>"Mother, what are those men doing?"</p> - -<p>"They are quarrying stone."</p> - -<p>"What for?"</p> - -<p>"Well, to make churches with, for one thing," replied the mother, with -a curious smile.</p> - -<p>"What! churches like that?"</p> - -<p>And Idris pointed to the <i>Chapelle des Pêcheurs</i>, which glowed in the -setting sunlight like sculptured bronze.</p> - -<p>"Yes: they quarry the stone and shape it into blocks, which are then -sent to Nantes, or Paris, or wherever wanted, and fitted together."</p> - -<p>Idris was silent for a few moments, turning the information over in his -mind.</p> - -<p>"They must be good men to make churches," he presently remarked.</p> - -<p>"On the contrary, they are bad men."</p> - -<p>Idris was puzzled at this, being evidently of opinion that the -character of the work sanctified the workers.</p> - -<p>"Then why do they cut stone for churches?"</p> - -<p>"Because they are made to do so by other men who watch to see that the -work is done."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p> - -<p>Idris becoming more puzzled at this compulsory state of labour, -returned to the moral character of the workers.</p> - -<p>"Are they <i>all</i> bad—every one?"</p> - -<p>"No; not all," exclaimed his mother, with an energy that quite -surprised the little fellow. "There is one there who is the best, the -truest, the noblest of men."</p> - -<p>Her eyes sparkled, and a beautiful colour burned on her cheek. She sat -with a proud air as if defying the world to say the contrary.</p> - -<p>"Is he as good as father was?"</p> - -<p>"About the same," replied Mrs. Breakspear, her features softening into -a smile.</p> - -<p>"Why, you have said that no one was ever so good as father."</p> - -<p>"Have I? Well, this man is. There is no difference between them."</p> - -<p>"If he is so good, why has he to work among all those bad men?"</p> - -<p>"Some day, child, you shall know," replied his mother, folding him -within her arms. "Don't ask any more questions, Idie."</p> - -<p>"Why doesn't he run away?" persisted the little fellow.</p> - -<p>"Because soldiers are there, who would shoot him down if he tried to -escape," said Mrs. Breakspear with a shudder. "Come, let us be going. -It is growing cold. See how the mist is rising!"</p> - -<p>The boom of a distant gun was rolling faintly over the moorland. A fog -creeping up from the sea curtained the prison from view as they turned -to descend the slope that led to Quilaix.</p> - -<p>It was market-day. Buying and selling had now come to an end, but many -persons still lingered in the square, chiefly natives from remote -districts. "Robinson Crusoes," Idris called them, nor was the name -inappropriate.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> Clad in garments of goatskin with the hairy side -turned outwards, and with long tresses hanging like manes from beneath -their broad-brimmed hats, they might have been taken for wild men of -the woods: a wildness that was in appearance only, for no one is more -tender-hearted than the Breton peasant.</p> - -<p>Suddenly there was a movement among them, and it could be seen -that they were forming a circle around a man who had just made his -appearance. The maidens, who were beating and washing clothes in the -stream that flowed along one side of the square, ceased their work and -came running up to the circle, their wooden sabots sounding upon the -stone pavement.</p> - -<p>The cause of all this commotion was a man belonging to a class, -formerly more common in Brittany than nowadays, the class called Kloers -or itinerant minstrels, who recite verses of their own composing upon -any topic that happens to be uppermost in the public mind, accompanying -their rude improvisation upon the three-stringed rebec.</p> - -<p>"It is André the Kloer," cried Idris gleefully, who had caught a -glimpse of the minstrel. "Let us listen. He will tell us some fine -stories."</p> - -<p>The Kloer having glanced towards the ground at his hat, which contained -several sous, said:—</p> - -<p>"For your help, friends, many thanks. I will now recite '<i>The Ballad of -the Ring</i>,' a ballad dealing with a murder that happened some years ago -at Nantes."</p> - -<p>The minstrel spoke in the language of the province, a language which -Idris understood as well as any Breton boy of his own age. The word -"murder" gave promise of something exciting. He glanced up at his -mother, supposing that she, too, would be equally interested in the -coming story: but, to his surprise, he saw that her face had become -whiter than usual—that it wore a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> strange look, a look of fear, a look -he had never before seen. The hand that held his own was trembling, -and, in a voice so changed from its ordinary tone as to be scarcely -recognizable, she said:—</p> - -<p>"Home, Idie, let us go home."</p> - -<p>Suddenly the Kloer paused in the midst of his speaking. A tender -expression came over his face; a gentle light shone from his eyes, and -with hand solemnly uplifted, he said:—</p> - -<p>"Christian brethren, ere we go further let us all say a <i>Pater</i> and a -<i>De Profundis</i> for the assassin as well as for his victim."</p> - -<p>In a moment his hearers with spontaneous and genuine piety were -kneeling upon the pavement, their heads bowed, their hats doffed, while -the Kloer, after making the sign of the cross, began to say the prayers.</p> - -<p>As Idris and his mother alone remained standing the attention of the -minstrel was naturally drawn to them. No sooner did his eyes fall upon -Mrs. Breakspear than a change came over him. His look of solemnity was -succeeded by one of wonderment, and after stammering out a few broken -phrases, which, though intended as pious petitions to Heaven, conveyed -scarcely any meaning to his hearers, he brought his prayer to an abrupt -conclusion.</p> - -<p>"Good folk," he cried, "I will not give you '<i>The Ballad of the Ring</i>.' -It is too mournful. It would sadden the hearts of some who are present."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Breakspear tightened her grasp on the wrist of Idris, and, much to -his grief, drew him away from the presence of the Kloer, and hurried -him onward to Pol's house.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER II</span> <span class="smaller">THE RUNIC RING</span></h2> - -<p>That same evening Idris lay reading on the hearth-rug before a bright -fire. Since their return from the moorland he had found his mother -unusually quiet, and he had therefore turned for companionship to his -favourite book, "<i>The Life of King Alfred</i>." Having reared the volume -against a footstool he rested his elbows upon the floor, and his chin -upon his hands, and in this attitude was soon absorbed in the doings of -the Saxon hero.</p> - -<p>Suddenly he looked up and addressed his mother, who was sitting in an -armchair watching him.</p> - -<p>"Mother, what are runes?"</p> - -<p>What was there in this simple question to startle Mrs. Breakspear, for -startled she certainly was?</p> - -<p>"Why do you wish to know? Who has been talking to you about runes?"</p> - -<p>"This book says that the Vikings used to carve runes on the prows of -their galleys. What <i>are</i> runes?"</p> - -<p>The mother's face lost its look of alarm, yet it was with some -hesitancy that she replied, "They were letters used in olden times by -the nations of the north."</p> - -<p>"But how could letters carved on the prow protect the vessel?"</p> - -<p>What a pair of earnest dark eyes were those fixed that moment upon the -mother's face!</p> - -<p>"Well, as a matter of fact, they couldn't. But men fancied that they -could. They were very superstitious in those days."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p> - -<p>As Idris showed a desire for further knowledge, his mother -continued:—"The old Norsemen believed that these letters when -pronounced in a certain order would have a magical effect. Some runes -would stop the course of the wind: others would cause an enemy's sword -to break. Some would make the captive's chains fall off: and others -again would cause the dead to come forth from the tomb and speak. But -you know, dear Idie, all this is not true. The runic letters have no -such power. But the old Norse people believed so much in the virtue -of these characters that they engraved them on the walls of their -dwellings, on their armour, on their ships, on anything, in fact, which -they wished to protect."</p> - -<p>"Were these letters like ours in shape?"</p> - -<p>"Very different. You would like to see some Norse runes?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Breakspear rose, and going to an oak press produced a small ebony -casket, whose exterior was decorated with miniature carvings of Norse -warriors engaged in combat.</p> - -<p>Seating herself upon the hearth-rug beside the little fellow she -unlocked the casket and lifted the lid. Within, upon the blue satin -lining, there lay a silver ring, measuring about eight inches in -circumference, and obviously of antique workmanship.</p> - -<p>"This," said Mrs. Breakspear, "is a very old runic ring."</p> - -<p>"How old?"</p> - -<p>"More than two thousand years old. Tradition says that it was made by -Odin himself. Do you know who he was, Idie?"</p> - -<p>"The book calls him an imaginary deity. What does that mean?"</p> - -<p>"It means a god who never lived."</p> - -<p>"Then how can the ring have been made by Odin if there never was an -Odin?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Odin, the god, is, of course, a fable; but Odin, the man, may have -had a real existence. He was, so the wise tell us, a warrior, priest, -and king of the North, who after death was worshipped as a deity. -The legend states that, having made up his mind to die, Odin gave to -himself nine wounds in the form of a circle, guiding the point of his -spear by this ring, which was laid on his breast for that purpose. The -ring thus became sacred in the eyes of his children and descendants: -and they showed their reverence for it by using it as an altar-ring in -their religious ceremonies. Guthrum, the famous Danish warrior, was of -Odin's race, and this is said to have been the identical holy ring, -celebrated in history, upon which he and his Vikings swore to quit the -kingdom of Alfred."</p> - -<p>Idris listened with breathless interest. Guthrum! Alfred! Odin! To -think that his mother should possess a ring that had once belonged to -these exalted characters! It was wonderful! If the relic were gifted -with memory and speech what an interesting story it might unfold!</p> - -<p>He turned the ring over in his hands. How massive it was! None of your -modern, hollow bangles, but solid and weighty. The ancient silversmith -had not been sparing of the metal.</p> - -<p>"Oh, couldn't we make a lot of franc-pieces out of it!" cried Idris.</p> - -<p>The outer perimeter of the ring was enamelled with purple, and -decorated with a four-line inscription of tiny runic letters in gold, -so clear and distinct in outline, that a runologist would have had no -difficulty in reading them; though whether the characters, when read, -would have yielded any meaning, is a different matter.</p> - -<p>"Are these the runes?" asked Idris, pointing to them. "What funny -looking things! Here is one like an arrow, and here it is again, and -again. Why, some of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> them <i>are</i> like our letters. Here is one like a B, -and here is an R, and an X. What does all this writing mean, mother?"</p> - -<p>"No one has ever yet been able to interpret it. When you are older, -Idie, you shall study runes, and then perhaps you will be able to -explain the meaning."</p> - -<p>Idris knitted his little brows over the inscription as if desirous of -solving the enigma there and then, without waiting till manhood's days.</p> - -<p>"Did Odin engrave these letters?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"He may have done so. He is said to have been the inventor of runes, -you know."</p> - -<p>As Idris turned the ring around in his hand his eye became attracted by -a broad, black stain on the inner perimeter.</p> - -<p>"What is this dark mark?"</p> - -<p>His mother hesitated ere replying:—</p> - -<p>"It is perhaps a blood-stain."</p> - -<p>"Why isn't it red like blood?"</p> - -<p>"A blood-stain soon turns black. I have said that this was an -altar-ring. Let me tell you what is meant by that. You know if you go -into <i>La Chapelle des Pêcheurs</i> you will see upon the altar a—what, -Idie?"</p> - -<p>"A crucifix," was the prompt reply.</p> - -<p>"Well, if you had gone into any temple of the Northmen—and their -temples were often nothing more than a circle of tall stones in the -depth of a forest—you would have seen on their altar a large silver -ring. And just as Catholics nowadays kiss a crucifix and swear to speak -the truth, so in old Norse times men employed a ring for the same -purpose. Before they took the oath the ring was dipped in the blood of -the sacrifice. Then if a man broke his word it was believed that the -god to whom the sacrifice had been offered would most surely punish -him."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p> - -<p>The book that Idris had been reading contained an account of the Norse -mode of sacrificing: and so with his eye still on the dark stain, he -said:—</p> - -<p>"Mother, didn't the old Norsemen sometimes offer up men on their -altars?"</p> - -<p>"Sometimes they did."</p> - -<p>"Then this stain may be a man's blood?"</p> - -<p>"It is very likely."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps the very blood of Odin, made when he gave himself the nine -wounds," said Idris, in a tone of glee, and fascinated by the ring, as -children often are fascinated by things gruesome. "What a long time the -stain has lasted! But it can't be Odin's blood," he continued, with -an air of mournfulness: "the stain would have worn off long ago.—I -<i>would</i> like to know whose blood it is!"</p> - -<p>"Hush! Hush! We do not yet know that it <i>is</i> human blood. Come, you -must not talk any more about such dreadful things."</p> - -<p>And sensible that the conversation had taken a turn not at all suited -to a tender mind, Mrs. Breakspear tried to divert his thoughts. Putting -away the altar-ring, she seated herself beside him, and drawing -him partly within her embrace, she said, "Now what shall I talk -about?"—which was her usual preface when beginning his instruction in -history, geography, and the like.</p> - -<p>"Tell me about Vikings—<i>all</i> about them," he replied with the air of -one capable of taking in the whole cycle of Scandinavian lore.</p> - -<p>As Mrs. Breakspear had made a study of Northern history, she was able -to gratify her little son's request by regaling him with a variety of -tales drawn from Icelandic sagas and early Saxon chronicles. For more -than two hours Idris sat entranced, listening to the doings, good and -bad, of the famous sea-kings of old.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I wish," he cried, when his mother had finished her stories for the -night, "I wish <i>I</i> were a Viking, like <i>Mr.</i> Rollo and <i>Mr</i>. Eric the -Red. It would be fine."</p> - -<p>For several days Idris would listen to no history that did not relate -to Vikings. He took likewise to drawing Norse galleys from his -mother's description of them, giving to every vessel the orthodox -raven-standard, dragon-prow, and a row of shields hung all around above -the water-line. And he somewhat startled the good Curé of Quilaix, who -had made a morning-call upon Mrs. Breakspear: for when told to hand the -reverend gentleman a glass of wine, he held the drink aloft with the -cry of "Skoal to the Northland, skoal!" adding immediately afterwards, -"Runes! runes! I wish some one would teach me how to read runes. Won't -you, monsieur?"</p> - -<p>Runes! Monsieur le Curé had had a reputation for scholarship once -upon a time: but thirty years incessantly spent in doing good among -the people of his parish had left him so little time for study that -he could now read his Greek Testament only by the aid of the French -translation.</p> - -<p>"And why do you wish to learn runes, my little man?" he said, patting -the boy on the head.</p> - -<p>"Because—because——" began Idris; but, observing that his mother was -pressing her finger upon her lip as a sign for him to be silent, he -stopped short, and Mrs. Breakspear adroitly turned the conversation to -other matters. After the departure of the Curé, she said:—</p> - -<p>"Idie, you must never let any one know that we have that runic ring in -our possession."</p> - -<p>"Why not?" he asked in surprise.</p> - -<p>"Because there are men who desire to lay their hands upon it, and if -they learn that it is in this house they may try to steal it; nay, will -perhaps kill us in order to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> obtain it. The ring has been the cause of -one murder, and if you speak of it out of doors it may be the cause -of another. Remember, then, you must not mention the ring to any one. -Remember, remember!"</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER III</span> <span class="smaller">A RETROSPECT</span></h2> - -<p>Idris slept in a room the window of which, being a dormer one, -overlooked the roofs of the other houses, and gave him an interrupted -view of the sea.</p> - -<p>One morning, as soon as he had drawn the curtain, he came running to -his mother's room with the news:—</p> - -<p>"Oh, mother, come and look. There's a pretty little ship in the bay."</p> - -<p>So, to please him, Mrs. Breakspear stepped from her <i>lit clos</i>, or -cupboard bed, and stole, even as she was, in her night-robe, to take a -view of the vessel.</p> - -<p>"See, there it is," cried Idris, excitedly pointing it out. "Is it a -Viking ship, mother?"</p> - -<p>"There are no Vikings nowadays," was the reply, a reply which Idris -took as a proof of the degeneracy of the times. "It is a yacht."</p> - -<p>As this term conveyed no more enlightenment to Idris' mind than if she -had said that it was a quinquereme, he naturally asked, "What is a -yacht?"</p> - -<p>The explanation was deferred till breakfast-time, when his mother -entered into the meaning of the term. Idris made a somewhat hasty meal, -being eager to run off to the quay for the purpose of taking a nearer -view of the newly-arrived vessel.</p> - -<p>Dancing down the stairs of the old house into the street he made for -the end of the stone pier, and sitting down at the head of the steps -he took a long survey of the yacht, wondering whether it equalled in -point<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> of swiftness and beauty the famous <i>Long Serpent</i> of Olaf, built -by that master-shipwright, Thorberg.</p> - -<p>A boat was rapidly making its way from the vessel to the harbour. Idris -recognized it as the revenue-cutter, at the tiller of which sat Old Pol -himself.</p> - -<p>"Ha! Master Idris," he said, as soon as he had mounted the stairs, -"what a pity you were not out an hour earlier! You could then have gone -with us to yon vessel." And then, turning to those who had accompanied -him, he remarked: "So Captain Rochefort is the owner of that yacht. -Well, everybody has heard of him: one of the bravest in the Emperor's -service, and an officer of the Legion of Honour. Nothing wrong with -that craft, eh, Baptiste?"</p> - -<p>"Humph!" growled the man addressed, a grizzled old coastguard with a -saturnine cast of countenance. "So they have put Captain Rochefort -ashore at Port St. Remé, and he is coming on foot to Quilaix. But if -the Captain wants to visit Quilaix, why does he not come with the -yacht, instead of walking over the moorland?"</p> - -<p>"Why, Baptiste, you talk like one who is suspicious," remarked Pol in -surprise.</p> - -<p>"And I <i>am</i> suspicious. There's something wrong in the wind. -Harbour-master, listen to me. As everybody in Quilaix is going to the -Pardon to-day the town will be deserted until a late hour. The night -will be dark, as this is the time of no moon. Captain Rochefort has -been put ashore in order to signal the favourable moment. They are -going to run a cargo."</p> - -<p>This statement was received by Pol with a burst of laughter.</p> - -<p>"Baptiste, you talk like a fool. What cargo can such a small craft -carry? Besides, they have no cargo. Did we not overhaul her thoroughly? -Captain Rochefort a contrabandist! A military officer hazard his -reputation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> in a smuggling venture! Impossible! He would have -everything to lose and nothing to gain by such a course."</p> - -<p>Baptiste, by a shake of his head, implied that he was not to be moved -from his opinion.</p> - -<p>"Very well, Baptiste, since you are so suspicious, we had better put -you on the watch for the next twenty-four hours."</p> - -<p>"I intend to watch, whether put on or not. And by the key of Saint -Tugean I shall have discovered something before to-morrow morning -comes."</p> - -<p>"Undoubtedly. You will discover that you would have acted more wisely -by going with us to the Pardon to-day. That's the ticket for me. Life -is sad: then let us not miss any of its gaieties. And in all Finistère -there are no pancakes and cider like those of St. Remé."</p> - -<p>The rest of the coastguard, murmuring their approval of these -sentiments, dispersed in order to prepare for the Pardon, or -church-festival, to be held that day in a distant village; of which -festival the harbour-master's wife had, on the previous evening, drawn -so pleasant a forecast in the hearing of Idris, that the little fellow -had felt great disappointment on learning that his mother intended to -take no part in the celebration.</p> - -<p>Madame Marais had been somewhat troubled by the question as to how -her tenant's meals were to be prepared during her absence, but Mrs. -Breakspear had solved this difficulty by offering to arrange for -herself.</p> - -<p>Meantime Idris, still at the head of the pier-steps, continued his -survey of the vessel.</p> - -<p>A piece of canvas hanging over the taffrail was suddenly drawn up by a -sailor on board, an act that enabled Idris to see the name of the yacht -painted in big black letters.</p> - -<p><i>N-E-M-E-S-I-S.</i></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p> - -<p><i>Nemesis!</i> This was a word new to him. He had known sailors call -their boats <i>Marie</i>, <i>Isabelle</i>, <i>Jeanne</i>, and the like, with various -epithets prefixed, as <i>jolie</i>, <i>belle</i>, and <i>petite</i>, but never -<i>Nemesis</i>. He could not tell whether it was the name of man or woman: -so, on returning home, he sought enlightenment of his mother.</p> - -<p>"It's a curious name to give to a ship," commented the little fellow -thoughtfully, after Mrs. Breakspear had tried to explain the meaning of -the term. "Why do they call it that? Are they going to take vengeance -on somebody?"</p> - -<p>Shortly afterwards Madame Marais came out of her house, wearing -the wonderful lace cap that had descended to her through several -generations. Leaning upon the arm of Old Pol, who was likewise -gorgeously arrayed, she moved off in great state to take her place in -the line of the procession which, under the direction of Monsieur le -Curé, was slowly forming before the porch of <i>La Chapelle des Pêcheurs</i>.</p> - -<p>When all preliminaries had been satisfactorily completed, the -simple-hearted peasants, with flags flying and pipes playing, set off -on their pilgrimage, walking at a somewhat leisurely pace, for your -true Breton is seldom in a hurry.</p> - -<p>Idris, regretting that he could not accompany them, clambered to an -eminence on the moorland, where, aided by his mother's opera-glasses, -he watched the course of the procession till it faded from view.</p> - -<p>Nearly everybody in Quilaix had gone off to this Pardon. All the shops -were closed, and the town was as silent as on a Sunday morning during -the time of high mass. A few of the fishermen and of the coastguard -had indeed remained behind, but these were slumbering in the shadow of -the sardine-boats drawn high up on the beach. From these slumberers -must be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> excepted old Baptiste Malet, who throughout the day glided to -and fro along the shore, now and then dropping behind a rock to take -a scrutiny of the yacht by the aid of a telescope nearly as long as -himself.</p> - -<p>The <i>Nemesis</i> still remained at the point where the anchor had first -been cast. She was certainly a mysterious vessel; none of her occupants -had come ashore: none could be seen on deck. It was quite clear that -for some reason or other the crew shrank from the observation of those -on land.</p> - -<p>A gala-day it may have been for others, but for Idris it proved a -somewhat dull time. His mother seemed too much preoccupied to set him -his regular lessons: or perhaps she did not deem it fair to put him to -study while others were festively engaged. She sat during the greater -part of the day turning over the leaves of a large scrapbook filled -with newspaper cuttings—a book which Idris was never permitted to see, -Mrs. Breakspear being accustomed, as soon as her readings were ended, -to lock the volume within a drawer of the old oak press. She had read -these extracts so often as to be able to recite the greater part of -them by heart: nevertheless, she continued to con them daily, as if -they were quite new to her, though their perusal must have given her -pain.</p> - -<p>The first of these newspaper extracts was a long article from the -journal <i>L'Étoile de la Bretagne</i>, worded as follows:—</p> - -<p class="space-above">"Let us review the facts of this remarkable case.</p> - -<p>"Eric Marville is a gentleman of English birth who settled at Nantes in -the spring of 1866. Of handsome person and polished manners, speaking -our language with the ease of a native, and recently married to a rich -and beautiful wife, M. Marville soon became a favourite in the higher -circles of Nantes society. The Armorique<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> Club, the most fashionable -of its kind, admitted him to membership. It would have been well had -M. Marville never entered the salons of this establishment, since it -was here that he first met Henri Duchesne. The latter by all accounts -was a professional gamester, though up to the present time nothing -dishonourable has been proved in connection with his play.</p> - -<p>"From the very first these two men, Eric Marville and Henri Duchesne, -for some unknown reason, appear to have been in a state of secret -hostility to each other, hostility which finally developed into open -rupture. A remark uttered by Marville one evening, and doubtless -uttered with no ill intent, on the wonderful luck attending M. Duchesne -at cards, was interpreted by the latter as a reflection upon his mode -of playing, and he immediately challenged the other to a duel. M. -Marville merely shrugged his shoulders with the words:—'It is not the -fashion of my countrymen, monsieur, to fight a duel over trifles.' 'Do -you call the honour of my name a trifle?' exclaimed Duchesne, at the -same time contemptuously flinging a glass of wine in Marville's face.</p> - -<p>"In a moment the club was in an uproar, the friends of each striving -to keep the two men apart, an object successfully accomplished. All -efforts, however, to effect a reconciliation failed, and the two men -left the club avowedly enemies.</p> - -<p>"The next evening M. Marville was again present at the Amorique Club, -but, confining himself to the newspapers and political gossip, took no -part in the play that went on. M. Duchesne was likewise present, and -entered the lists against M. Montagne, a young lieutenant of Chasseurs. -The usual good fortune attended Duchesne, and his opponent having lost -all the money upon his person, said:—'I have one more stake, if M. -Duchesne does not object to play against it.' And with these<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> words -Montagne drew forth a large silver circlet having every appearance, -according to an antiquary who was present, of being an altar-ring, such -as was used in the religious rites of ancient Scandinavia.</p> - -<p>"M. Marville, happening to set eyes upon this circlet, became -singularly agitated; and, stepping up to the table where the two men -were at play, he said, addressing Montagne: 'How came you by that -ring?' M. Montagne, absorbed in the play, or perhaps deeming the -question an impertinent one, made no reply. The play resulted in the -transference of the ring to the pockets of M. Duchesne, who shortly -afterwards took his departure. Five minutes later M. Marville likewise -quitted the club, and, on being asked by a friend why he left earlier -than usual, replied:—'To recover my ring.'</p> - -<p>"Two hours afterwards, a <i>sergent-de-ville</i>, going his accustomed -round, heard cries for help coming from the Place Graslin, and on -running to the spot found M. Duchesne lying on the pavement with blood -flowing from a wound in the breast. M. Marville was kneeling beside him -and calling for help.</p> - -<p>"The injured man was at once removed to the adjacent surgery of M. -Rosaire, who, upon examination, found that life had fled.</p> - -<p>"The body was conveyed to the Préfecture, accompanied by M. Marville, -who gave evidence as to the finding of it. His statement amounted to no -more than that in walking homewards he had come by accident upon the -body of the fallen man.</p> - -<p>"The high position held by M. Marville, and his plausible explanation -of the situation in which he had been found by the <i>sergent-de-ville</i>, -prevented the authorities from attaching suspicion to him, and on -giving his recognizances to appear when required, M. Marville was -allowed to depart.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p> - -<p>"But the investigations carried on next day gave a different turn to -the affair. The quarrel at the Armorique Club and the threatening -language of the two men were recalled. Marville's remark on leaving -the club in the wake of M. Duchesne to the effect that he was going -to recover the ring seemed to supply an additional motive for the -deed, especially when taken in conjunction with the fact that though -M. Duchesne's money and jewellery were untouched the ring itself was -missing.</p> - -<p>"But the most significant circumstance of all was the finding of the -dagger with which the murder had been effected. Shown to M. Lenoir, -the well-known dealer in antiquities, whose establishment is in the -Rue Crébillon, he identified it as one that had been purchased from -him by M. Marville on the morning of the day on which the crime took -place. The weapon is an Italian stiletto, one warranted to have -belonged originally to the famous bravo, Michele Pezza, better known -to frequenters of the opera as Fra Diavolo. M. Lenoir mentioned this -circumstance as he handed the weapon to the purchaser, adding:—'It is -a dagger that has shed the blood of Frenchmen.'—'And may do so again,' -was the singular reply of M. Marville.</p> - -<p>"These circumstances seem to justify the arrest of M. Marville, who now -stands charged with the murder of M. Duchesne.</p> - -<p>"A peculiar feature of the case is the vanishing of the altar-ring. The -prisoner declines to make any statement respecting it, and though his -house has been searched no trace of it can be discovered."</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * *</p> - -<p>Mrs. Breakspear put away the book with a heavy sigh.</p> - -<p>"Ah, Eric!" she murmured. "Will your innocence ever be established?"</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER IV</span> <span class="smaller">TRAGEDY!</span></h2> - -<p>Mrs. Breakspear sat by the open casement enjoying the deep beauty of -the evening. The air was still and clear, and over the bay hung one -star sparkling in a sapphire sky.</p> - -<p>Idris, seated with her, had eyes for nothing but the yacht <i>Nemesis</i>, -which still lay out in the offing, rising and falling with the motion -of the tide, and showing a tiny light at the stern.</p> - -<p>"Look, mother!" he cried suddenly. "They are putting out a boat."</p> - -<p>By the faint starlight they could see in the boat seven men, one of -whom steered while the rest rowed. Their garb was that of ordinary -French seamen, but Mrs. Breakspear noticed with surprise that each was -armed with cutlass and pistol.</p> - -<p>"Why are they not coming to the harbour?" asked Idris, a question which -found an echo in his mother's mind.</p> - -<p>The boat glided smoothly on, and finally vanished behind the cliffs to -the east of the town.</p> - -<p>"I wonder whether old Baptiste is watching them?" said Idris. "He said -that the men in the yacht were smugglers, and that they would come -ashore this evening. And sure enough they've come."</p> - -<p>"If the men in that boat are smugglers, don't you think, Idie, that -they would wait till it is much darker?"</p> - -<p>Idris was forced to admit the reasonableness of this remark.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Why are they all wearing swords? Perhaps they <i>are</i> Vikings, after -all?" he went on, loth to believe that such heroes had vanished from -the earth.</p> - -<p>His mother shook her head in mild protest, not knowing that there was -a good deal of latter-day Vikingism in the enterprise that was taking -these seven men ashore.</p> - -<p>Now as Mrs. Breakspear sat in the silence and solemnity of the -deepening twilight she became subject to a feeling the like of which -she had never before experienced. A vague awe, a presentiment of coming -ill, stole over her; and, yielding to its influence, she resolved, -before it should be too late, to carry out a purpose she had long had -in mind.</p> - -<p>"Idie," she said, closing the casement and moving to the fireplace, -"come and sit here. I have something to tell you."</p> - -<p>Wondering much at her grave manner the little fellow obeyed.</p> - -<p>"Idie," she began, "you have been taught to believe that your father -died when you were an infant. I have told you this, thinking it right -that you should know nothing of his sad history. But, sooner or later, -you are sure to hear it from others: told, too, in a way that I would -not have you believe. Therefore it is better that you should hear -the story from me: and remember to take these words of mine for your -guidance in all future years: and if men should speak ill of your -father, do not believe them: for who should know him better than I, his -wife?"</p> - -<p>She paused for a moment: and Idris, new to this sort of language, made -no reply.</p> - -<p>"Idie, your father is <i>not</i> dead."</p> - -<p>Idris' eyes became big with wonder.</p> - -<p>"Then why doesn't he live with us?" he asked.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Because," replied his mother, sinking her voice to a whisper, "because -he is in prison."</p> - -<p>As prison is a place usually associated with crime, Idris naturally -received a shock, which his mother was not slow to perceive.</p> - -<p>"Idie, you know something of history, and therefore you know that many -a good man has found himself in prison before to-day."</p> - -<p>"O yes: there was Sir Walter Raleigh, and that Earl of Surrey who was -a poet: and—and—I can't think of any more at present, but I can find -them in the book."</p> - -<p>"Well, your father, like many others in history, is suffering unjustly."</p> - -<p>"What do they say he did?"</p> - -<p>"They say," replied his mother, once more sinking her voice to a -whisper, "they say he committed murder. But he did not: he did not: -he did not. I have his word that he is innocent. I will set his word -against all the rest of the world."</p> - -<p>"How long is he to remain in prison?"</p> - -<p>"He is never to come out," replied Mrs. Breakspear; and, unable to -control her emotion, she burst into a fit of sobbing.</p> - -<p>Idris, touched by the sight of his mother's grief, began to cry also. -Now for the first time he understood why his mother so often wept in -secret. How could men be so cruel as to take his father away from her -and to shut him up in prison for a crime he had not committed?</p> - -<p>"Why didn't they put him under the guillotine?" he asked, when his fit -of crying was over.</p> - -<p>A natural question, but one that caused his mother to shiver.</p> - -<p>"Do not use that awful word," she said. "He was condemned to death, but -the sentence was afterwards changed."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> - -<p>Certain past events were now seen by Idris in a new light.</p> - -<p>"Mother, I know in what prison father is. It is the one on the moorland -over there," he exclaimed, indicating the direction with his hand.</p> - -<p>"You are right, Idie: and now you know why I live at Quilaix. It is -that I may be near your father. I am happier here—if indeed I may use -the word happy in speaking of myself—than in any other place. I have a -beautiful house at Nantes, but I cannot live there in ease and luxury -while your father is deprived of everything that makes life bright. Now -listen, Idie, for I am going to require of you a solemn promise. Since -your father did not commit the murder it is certain that some one else -did. I want you to find that man."</p> - -<p>"I, mother?"</p> - -<p>"Of course I do not mean now. In after years. When you are a man."</p> - -<p>"But supposing the murderer should be dead?"</p> - -<p>"You must find him, living or dead: if living, you must bring him to -justice: if dead, you must show to the world that your father was -guiltless of the deed. He himself, confined as he is within prison -walls, can do nothing to establish his innocence: and as for me, I have -the feeling that I shall not live long. Grief is shortening my days. To -you, then, I leave this task: to it you must devote your whole life. -You will be spared the necessity of having to earn your living, since -you are well provided for. But though health, strength, and fortune -be yours, you will find these advantages embittered by the constant -thought, 'Men think me the son of a murderer!' Will you let the world -do you this injustice? Will you not try to clear your father's memory? -Will you not ever bear in mind your mother's dearest wish?"</p> - -<p>Moved by her earnestness Idris gave the required<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> promise, consoling -himself over the present difficulty of the problem by the thought that -it would perhaps seem easier in the days to come.</p> - -<p>"You have not forgotten the story we read the other day," continued -his mother, "of the great Hannibal; how, when he was a boy his father, -leading him to the altar, made him swear to be the lifelong enemy of -Rome? You, too, must make a similar oath. Bring me the Bible."</p> - -<p>Idris brought it, and at his mother's command laid his hand upon a page -of the open Book, and repeated after her the following words:—</p> - -<p>"I swear on reaching manhood to do my best to establish my father's -innocence. May God help me to keep this oath!"</p> - -<p>"Say it again, Idie."</p> - -<p>Idris accordingly repeated the vow, feeling somewhat proud in thus -imitating the Carthaginian hero.</p> - -<p>His mother brushed back the curls from his forehead and looked -earnestly into his eyes.</p> - -<p>"Little Idris! little Idris!" she murmured. "Am I acting foolishly? I -am forgetting that you are only seven years of age—scarcely old enough -to understand the meaning of what you have just uttered. No matter: -when you are older, if you are a true son, as I feel sure you will be, -you will not require the memory of this oath to teach you your duty. -And now I will tell you the story of the murder, and why your father -came to be suspected of—— Ha! what is that?" she gasped, breaking off -abruptly. "Listen! O, Idie, who is it?"</p> - -<p>They had believed themselves to be alone in the house. Mrs. Breakspear, -before retiring to this sitting-room, had made fast the outer doors as -well as the lower windows. In such circumstances, therefore, it was -alarming to hear footsteps ascending the staircase—footsteps which -Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> Breakspear instinctively felt to be those of a man, and not of a -woman; footsteps, not of Old Pol, but of a stranger! How had he gained -access to the house, and what was his object?</p> - -<p>The unknown visitor had mounted to the head of the staircase and was -now advancing along the passage leading to the room in which Mrs. -Breakspear sat. Unable to speak from surprise and fear mother and son -gazed at the door with dilated eyes as if expecting to see some awful -vision.</p> - -<p>The door was pushed open, and Mrs. Breakspear could scarcely suppress a -scream at sight of the man who entered, for his face was hidden behind -a black silk vizard, such as might be worn at a <i>bal masqué</i>, and -through the holes of the vizard two eyes could be seen sparkling, so it -seemed to Mrs. Breakspear, with a sinister expression. A low-crowned -soft hat covered his head; and a cloak, reaching to his heels, -completely concealed his person.</p> - -<p>He came forward a few paces, glancing round the room as he did so, -and seeming to derive satisfaction from the fact that it contained no -persons more formidable than a woman and a child.</p> - -<p>"You are alarmed, madame, but without reason," he began. "It is not -my purpose to do you hurt—" he paused for a moment, and then added, -"unless your obstinacy should call for it."</p> - -<p>The man's voice was altogether strange to Mrs. Breakspear. He spoke in -French, but with an accent that somehow impressed her with the belief -that he was an Englishman: one, too, accustomed to move in good society.</p> - -<p>"The first fact I would impress upon your mind is this," continued the -stranger, "that you are alone, unprotected, in my power absolutely. If -you raise your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> voice there is no one either in the house or in the -street to hear you. The town is practically deserted. All are gone -to the Pardon, a fact I have taken into my calculations. If you will -reflect upon this, it may facilitate my errand."</p> - -<p>These words, and the tone in which they were spoken, did not tend to -allay Mrs. Breakspear's fears. With difficulty she gathered voice to -speak.</p> - -<p>"Who are you?"</p> - -<p>A smile appeared beneath the fringe of the silken vizard.</p> - -<p>"This mask is sufficient proof that I wish to conceal my identity."</p> - -<p>"What do you want?"</p> - -<p>"A more sensible question than your first, since it brings us to the -point at once. I require, nay, I demand of you, the Norse altar-ring -now in your keeping."</p> - -<p>"What reason have you for supposing that it is here?" said Mrs. -Breakspear, growing bolder.</p> - -<p>"Do not equivocate." The eyes in the mask flashed like polished steel. -"I know it to be in your possession. Do you deny it?" Mrs. Breakspear -was silent. "You do not deny it? Good! The ring being here, I demand -it."</p> - -<p>"Why do you want it?"</p> - -<p>"I decline to be catechised. Give me the ring."</p> - -<p>"You are evidently a gentleman by education, if not by birth." The -stranger gave a start at this. "And yet you seek to act the part of a -common thief, a part you would not dare act," she cried with spirit, -"were I a man, and not a defenceless woman."</p> - -<p>The man shrugged his shoulders impatiently.</p> - -<p>"I did not come to listen to moral vapourings, but to receive the ring."</p> - -<p>"And what if I refuse to comply with your demand?"</p> - -<div class="center"><a name="i032.jpg" id="i032.jpg"></a><img src="images/i032.jpg" alt="Illustration" /></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You are alone, let me repeat, and absolutely at my mercy."</p> - -<p>A dagger flashed from beneath his cloak. With a cry Mrs. Breakspear -clasped Idris in her arms to shield him from a possible attack. Yet -even amid her fear it did not escape her notice that the hand which -held the weapon was small, white, and decorated with a diamond ring.</p> - -<p>"Listen to the voice of prudence," continued the stranger. "It is -within my power to despatch you both, and to search these apartments -for the ring which you admit is somewhere here. I am quite prepared to -go to that extreme rather than return without it. You will, therefore, -see the wisdom of surrendering the ring: you thus save your life and -that of your child: I save time and trouble—an arrangement mutually -advantageous."</p> - -<p>Something in his tone convinced Mrs. Breakspear that he was quite -capable of carrying out his threat.</p> - -<p>"You will find the ring in an ebony case in the top drawer of that -cabinet. Take it: and if it should bring upon you the curse which it -has brought upon me and mine, you will live to rue this day."</p> - -<p>The man smiled, put up his weapon, walked towards the oak press, and in -a moment more the casket was in his hands.</p> - -<p>"Yes, this is it," he murmured in a tone of satisfaction, as he drew -the ring from the case, and scrutinized the runic inscription.</p> - -<p>"May one ask," he continued, concealing the relic upon his person, "how -you came to deny all knowledge of it at the trial of your husband?"</p> - -<p>"I spoke truly," she answered, "being unaware at the time that my -husband had secretly entrusted it to the care of his friend, Captain -Rochefort."</p> - -<p>"After stealing it from the body of his victim," added the stranger.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> - -<p>"His victim? There you err," cried Mrs. Breakspear with flashing eyes, -loathing to answer the stranger, yet eager to vindicate her husband. -"When my husband left the Armorique Club on that fatal evening he -overtook M. Duchesne on his way home, and upon the latter's expressing -regret for his violence of the preceding night a reconciliation took -place. As a pledge of amity M. Duchesne, remembering the interest my -husband had shown in the ring, made him a present of it: in return -my husband insisted that Duchesne should accept the antique poniard -purchased by him that morning. Thus they parted: the one with the -ring, the other with the dagger. The assassin, whoever he was, that -attacked Duchesne, must, during the struggle, have become possessed of -the dagger, and with it he inflicted the fatal wound. Next morning, my -husband, foreseeing that he might be accused of the murder, and aware -that his possession of the ring would seem a suspicious circumstance, -handed it to Captain Rochefort, enjoining him, very unwisely as I now -perceive, to keep silent on the matter."</p> - -<p>"And so," commented the stranger, "Captain Rochefort conspired to -defeat the ends of justice."</p> - -<p>"The word justice comes with an ill grace from the lips of a coward and -a thief," retorted Mrs. Breakspear, her spirit rising, as it always -rose, whenever her husband's innocence was put to the doubt. "Say, -rather, that in concealing the ring Captain Rochefort was seeking to -prevent the Law from drawing an erroneous conclusion."</p> - -<p>"He failed, however," sneered the stranger, "for the Law pronounced -your husband guilty—greatly to my interests. A pity they didn't -guillotine him! Still, he is in prison: there let him rot! and—— Ah!" -he muttered in a hoarse voice, breaking off abruptly. "In the name of -hell, what's that?"</p> - -<p>He could not have been a very brave man, Idris<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> thought, for he seemed -unable to keep his hand which rested on the table from shaking.</p> - -<p>All three were silent, listening for a renewal of the sound. It soon -came—a dull boom slowly rolling through the air like distant thunder.</p> - -<p>With the air of one mad the stranger dashed to the window, and flinging -wide the casement looked out into the night, a night of glory and -beauty, such as is seldom seen in misty Brittany. The air from horizon -to zenith was alive with countless stars that seemed to float like -silver dust in the blue depth. Their faint light falling over a wide -expanse of rippling sea, and on a long arc of yellow sand terminated at -each end by dark cliffs, formed a picture that would have charmed the -eye of an artist.</p> - -<p>Idris, his curiosity getting the better of his fear, slipped from his -mother's embrace, and, stealing to a second casement, looked through -its latticed panes.</p> - -<p>On the water was the boat he had noticed earlier in the evening, the -boat that had been put out from the yacht. If its occupants had gone -ashore for the purpose of taking some one aboard they had failed in -their object, since the boat contained the same seven sailors. They -were evidently in a state of perplexity: for, without any apparent -motive, they were rowing backwards and forwards in a line parallel with -the shore, the steersman now and then standing up and sweeping the -coast with a night-glass.</p> - -<p>Turning his eyes upon the yacht Idris saw jets of black smoke issuing -from the funnel. The engineer was evidently getting up steam.</p> - -<p>Here, thought Idris, was the explanation of the booming sound. The -yacht was about to weigh anchor, and had fired a gun as a signal of -departure.</p> - -<p>The masked man, however, did not seem to think that the sound came from -the yacht. With his body half out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> of the window he was staring at the -plateau of brown moorland with its faint silvery crown—staring as if -behind that white mist some exciting event were happening that he would -fain witness.</p> - -<p>Once more came the dull, rolling reverberation, and at that sound the -man reeled from the window as if buffeted by a giant hand.</p> - -<p>"Damnation! he has escaped," he hissed between his set teeth. "Is this -their vigilance, after being warned of the plot? But my enemy shall not -escape. I'll join in the chase myself. That gun invites pursuit. It is -lawful," and here a sinister smile appeared beneath the fringe of his -mask, "it is lawful to shoot a fugitive convict."</p> - -<p>With that he darted from the room and dashed down the staircase: the -slamming of a door followed, and the next moment his tread could be -heard going up the street in the direction of the moorland prison.</p> - -<p>The indignation felt by Mrs. Breakspear at the theft of the ring became -lost in a new emotion. A convict had escaped, and the stranger's words -seemed almost to imply that the fugitive was—her husband! She strove -to banish this idea as a wild fancy, as a too daring hope on her part, -but it would persist in forcing itself upon her. With her hand pressed -to her side she sat, powerless to speak, trembling at the thought that -at that very moment Eric Marville might be fleeing over the misty -moorland with armed warders in close pursuit eager to bring him down -with a carbine shot.</p> - -<p>"Hark! there goes another gun," cried Idris. "Who is it that is firing, -and why are they doing it?"</p> - -<p>Something else besides the gun was now heard. Along the lonely and -usually silent road that led down from the moorland to Quilaix came a -sound, which, at first faint and undistinguishable in character, became -gradually more distinct, and finally developed into the thud-thud<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> of -horse-hoofs, accompanied by the noise of wheels rattling madly forward -as if speed were a matter of life and death to the driver of the -vehicle.</p> - -<p>Louder and ever louder grew the sound of the galloping horse-hoofs; -they descended the moorland: they reached the outskirts of the town: -they came plunging up the Rue Grande, and at last the wild race was -brought to a sudden standstill in front of the harbour-master's door.</p> - -<p>Idris, looking from the window, saw in the street below a light gig, -and in it a man of soldierly aspect, who was holding the reins with -a tight hand and using his best endeavours to keep the panting and -steaming mare steady in order to facilitate the descent of a second man.</p> - -<p>"For God's sake, Eric, make haste," cried the one in the gig, with a -backward glance. "They can't be far behind us."</p> - -<p>The man to whom these words were spoken delivered a succession of -knocks at the street-door, the loud, imperative knocks of one whose -errand will brook no delay.</p> - -<p>Without waiting for his mother's bidding Idris flew down the stairs -eager to learn the meaning of this strange summons.</p> - -<p>On opening the door he found on the threshold a man draped from neck to -ankles in a grey ulster, a man who acted in a very strange way, for he -lifted Idris completely off his feet and kissed him several times.</p> - -<p>Now Idris, though not at all averse to the kisses of his mother or of -the fishermen's daughters, had an objection to the kisses of a man, and -especially of a strange man, and he struggled to be free.</p> - -<p>"Where's your mother?" cried the stranger, setting Idris down.</p> - -<p>"She's up there," answered Idris, indicating the staircase. "But you'd -better not kiss her. She won't like it."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> - -<p>The man gave a joyous laugh.</p> - -<p>"Won't she? Well, let us see," was his answer, and he darted swiftly up -the staircase, first calling out to the man in the gig:—</p> - -<p>"See to the boy, Noel."</p> - -<p>"Now, my little man," said the military gentleman, "jump up here. You -are going for a sail in that pretty ship yonder in the bay."</p> - -<p>Idris' eyes sparkled at this enchanting prospect.</p> - -<p>"But I can't go without my mother."</p> - -<p>"Oh, she's coming too; your father as well."</p> - -<p>"My father?" laughed Idris. "Why, my father is in——"</p> - -<p>He checked the word "prison" upon his lips, and substituted for it the -euphemism, "Over there."</p> - -<p>"By God! that's where he'll be again, unless he hurries," cried the -military gentleman. "That's your father who has just run up-stairs."</p> - -<p>His father up-stairs! The day had been a succession of surprises to -Idris, and this was the climax of them all. He had never known such an -exciting time. Deaf to the gentleman's command to ascend the vehicle he -turned and scampered hastily up to his mother's sitting-room, where he -beheld a sight that struck him dumb.</p> - -<p>The stranger was standing in the middle of the room with Mrs. -Breakspear in his arms, her cheek pillowed on his breast.</p> - -<p>"Eric, O, Eric!" she murmured: and the pure joy of that moment -transfigured her face with the light and beauty of an angel's.</p> - -<p>"Edith, my sweet wife!" cried the man pressing her lips to his. "This -kiss is a compensation for all I have suffered. There! you mustn't -faint. Why, here's our boy. What a fine fellow he is becoming! Well, -Idris, what do you think of your father and his court dress?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p> - -<p>Idris' face fell as he surveyed the newcomer. This man with his -close-cropped head, grimy visage, stubbly beard, and half-savage air, -his father! Beneath the grey ulster there peeped out the prison livery, -clad in which garb divine Apollo himself would lose all grace and -majesty.</p> - -<p>Eric Marville was not slow to read the thoughts of his little son, and -he smiled grimly.</p> - -<p>"Upon my word, he stares as if I were some wild animal. I verily -believe I am: prison life grinds every trace of the godlike out of a -man.—But come, Edith, we haven't a moment to lose. You can hear that -they have discovered my escape," he continued, as another boom rolled -over the moorland. "Rochefort was for hurrying me on board his yacht at -once, but it wasn't likely that I would leave you and the boy behind, -when you were so close at hand. Come, Edith and Idris, wife and son, -come! Away to a new life in a new land!"</p> - -<p>At that moment there came from without the warning voice of Captain -Rochefort.</p> - -<p>"Marville! Marville," he roared. "Look to yourself. They're here."</p> - -<p>As he spoke quick footsteps came clattering over the pavement of -the Rue Grande, and the ping-ping of carbine shots rang out on the -night-air. The bullets were intended for the Captain, but missed their -mark; and the mare taking fright at the report set off at a gallop, -followed by the pursuers, who were on foot.</p> - -<p>"Halt!" shouted an authoritative voice. "Let the car go; that's not the -quarry. Our man's in here; this is his wife's abode. Through the house, -two of you, and guard the rear. Two of you watch the front. Leave the -rest to me. I'll unearth him."</p> - -<p>The man who gave these commands rushed through the doorway of the -harbour-master's dwelling, and, as if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> guided by instinct, neglected -the lower storey and made his way up the staircase.</p> - -<p>All this took place so quickly that Marville was for the moment -paralyzed with surprise, and stood motionless and silent, with his -scared wife clinging to him.</p> - -<p>"Don't make any resistance, Eric, dearest," she pleaded. "It will be -better not."</p> - -<p>Springing from his lethargy Marville put aside the arms of his wife and -made for the open window, only to perceive two watchful gendarmes in -the street below, who instantly levelled their carbines at sight of the -convict's face.</p> - -<p>The only other outlet from the room was through the doorway: but there, -framed within the entrance and pistol in hand, stood a grey-haired, -fine looking veteran, clad in military uniform, Duclair, governor of -the prison, who, alive to his responsibility, had himself joined in the -chase.</p> - -<p>"Run to earth," he said, with a grim smile. "You're fairly cornered. -It's no use resisting."</p> - -<p>"We'll see about that," muttered Marville, pulling forth a revolver—a -recent gift of Rochefort's—with the intention of forcing his way over -the disabled or dead body of the governor.</p> - -<p>"Drop that, or by——" and Duclair punctuated the sentence with the -significant raising of his own weapon.</p> - -<p>Seeing the pistol levelled Mrs. Breakspear, with uplifted arms, flung -herself forward to shield her husband.</p> - -<p>Simultaneously with her movement came a deadly click from Marville's -weapon, followed instantly by a loud bang. The report was accompanied -by a cry of "Ah! Eric!" and by the fall of a body—sounds that sent a -cold thrill to the hearts of those who heard them.</p> - -<p>There, amid faint wreaths of bluish smoke, lay Mrs. Breakspear, -prostrate on the carpet, her forehead <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>disfigured by a spot from which -came the slow ooze of blood.</p> - -<p>"O, you have shot my mother!" wailed Idris, casting a look of anguish -at his father.</p> - -<p>The little fellow dropped on his knees beside her, but it was only a -piece of clay upon which he now gazed: his mother was gone forever: was -as much a part of the past as the dead Cæsars of history. Dread change, -and all the work of a moment!</p> - -<p>"Edith! my wife! O God, I have killed her!"</p> - -<p>Dropping the weapon Eric Marville staggered forward to lift up the dead -form and implore forgiveness from her who was beyond power to grant it, -but ere he could reach the fallen figure, strong hands were laid upon -him, and a pair of steel manacles was clasped upon his wrists.</p> - -<p>"<i>Mon Dieu!</i> who has done this?" cried one of the gendarmes, appalled -at the sight.</p> - -<p>"The prisoner," responded the governor. "Take notice, all of you, that -my weapon is undischarged."</p> - -<p>The gendarmes lifted the silent form and laid it upon a couch, and -there Idris knelt, sobbing bitterly and calling upon his mother to -speak.</p> - -<p>"My poor boy," said the governor, after a brief inspection of the body, -"she will never speak again.—We ought," he added, turning to address -his men, "we ought to send for a doctor, though he can do no good, for -she is stone dead."</p> - -<p>There was but one doctor in Quilaix, and he, Idris explained amid his -tears, had gone with the procession to the Pardon.</p> - -<p>"We must have some woman to attend to the body," continued Duclair. "We -can't return to Valàgenêt leaving the boy alone with a corpse. Surely -all the women folk haven't gone to this cursed Pardon?"</p> - -<p>Idris, as well as his grief would let him, explained<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> where a woman was -likely to be found, and a gendarme was at once despatched to fetch her.</p> - -<p>The man who had done the deed offered now no resistance to his captors. -His desire for liberty had fled. Overwhelmed by the awful result of his -own act he had sunk into a stupor, staring with glassy eyes at that -which but a few minutes before had been a living woman.</p> - -<p>Touched by the spectacle of his grief they allowed him to sit beside -her; and, as he showed a desire to clasp her hand, the governor made a -sign to one of the party to remove the manacles.</p> - -<p>This done, he sat holding the limp fingers within his own, pressing -them as if expecting the pressure to be returned.</p> - -<p>The gendarmes stood aloof in pitying silence. Not even the governor -spoke, feeling the emptiness of any attempt at consolation.</p> - -<p>As for Idris, he shrank, not unnaturally, from the man who had killed -his mother. Once he addressed to him a piteous reproach:—"Oh, why did -you come here?—Oh, mother, mother, speak to me!"</p> - -<p>Absorbed in his own grief, however, the man did not hear, or, at least, -did not reply to this plaint. It was a melancholy scene, and the men -awaited with secret impatience the coming of the woman to end the -oppressive spell.</p> - -<p>The silence was broken by the prisoner himself. All bent forward to -listen, but the words spoken conveyed no intelligible meaning to his -hearers. For, in a cold, mechanical voice, that sounded like the -monotone of a mournful bell, he murmured over and over again:—</p> - -<p>"The curse of the runic ring! The curse of the runic ring!"</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * *</p> - -<p>Next day the Minister of the Interior received the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> following telegram -from the Governor of Valàgenêt Prison:—</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>"Regret to state that convict, Eric Marville, escaped last night, -by connivance of warder, bribed by Captain Noel Rochefort, who, -with light vehicle, waited at prearranged time near prison. Owing -to mist, two men some time in meeting, thus enabling pursuers to -overtake them at 6, Rue Grande, Quilaix. Here Marville, resisting -capture, accidentally shot his wife dead. Prisoner conveyed back -to Valàgenêt under guard of four gendarmes. On lonely part of moor -escort assailed by Rochefort and six men. Suddenness of attack -and numerical superiority enabled assailants to effect rescue. -Prisoner carried off, presumably, on board <i>Nemesis</i>, as she -steamed off immediately afterwards."</p></blockquote> - -<p class="center space-above">END OF PROLOGUE</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> - -<h2>THE STORY</h2> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER I</span> <span class="smaller">THE RAVENGARS OF RAVENHALL</span></h2> - -<p>The Ravengars of Ormsby-on-Sea, a town on the Northumbrian coast, come -of an ancient stock; for, as students of the Gospel according to St. -Burke are aware, the original Ravengar antedates by two centuries that -Ultima Thule of heraldry, the Norman Conquest.</p> - -<p>Yet, though so ancient a race, one, moreover, that has taken part in -all the great events of English History, it was not until the days of -the Merry Monarch that the Ravengars entered the charmed and charming -circle of the peerage.</p> - -<p>At the battle of Naseby that gallant and loyal cavalier, Lancelot -Ravengar, contrived to disfigure the face of the great Protector by a -sword-cut that left behind it a scar for life. So valuable a service to -the State merited right royal recognition. "Something must be done for -Ravengar," said the courtiers of the Restoration. That something took -the shape of a patent of nobility, a favour the more readily granted by -the Monarch, inasmuch as it cost him nothing. So the heretofore plain -Lancelot Ravengar became the noble Viscount Walden, and at a later -date was advanced to the Earldom of Ormsby, a title derived from the -Northumbrian sea-town, whose rents and leases supplied him with the -wealth requisite to maintain his dignity.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> - -<p>This Lancelot Ravengar deserves mention, as being not only the first -peer of the family, but likewise the originator of a very curious -funeral rite instituted by his testamentary authority.</p> - -<p>When the Civil War broke out in Charles's days, Ravenhall, the seat -of the Ravengars, shared the fate of many other historic mansions: it -was besieged by the Puritan soldiery, and notwithstanding a gallant -defence, was forced to yield to the foe. Its owner, Lancelot, however, -was fortunate enough to escape to a secret subterranean chamber, -specially made for such emergencies, where, in addition to the family -heirlooms, provisions for many weeks had been stored. The Roundheads, -not finding the Cavalier after a long and careful search, concluded -that he had fled.</p> - -<p>For several days the victors remained at Ravenhall feasting and -drinking; and then, larder and wine cellar failing them, they proceeded -to plunder and dismantle the place "for the glory of the Lord," and so -took their departure.</p> - -<p>Now, during this period of hiding, Lancelot, with no companion but -a Bible, had ample leisure for meditation. The seclusion became the -turning-point in his spiritual life: from that time the hitherto -careless Cavalier developed religious tendencies which were not to be -shaken by all the gibes of the Merry Monarch.</p> - -<p>The place of his conversion naturally became invested with more than -ordinary interest in the eyes of Lancelot Ravengar: he spent much -of his time there in contemplation and prayer, becoming at last so -attached to the spot as to desire it for his place of sepulture.</p> - -<p>Accordingly, his last will and testament enjoined that not only his own -body, but the bodies likewise of his successors in the earldom should -be buried in the secret vault. This rite constituted the condition -of an entail,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> inasmuch as neglect on the part of the next of kin to -inter his predecessor in this chamber necessitated the forfeiture of -the inheritance. The will furthermore directed that the secret ingress -to this crypt should not be made known to more than four persons at a -time, viz: the then earl, his heir-apparent, the family lawyer, and -any fourth person whom these three should choose to take into their -confidence.</p> - -<p>When an Earl of Ormsby died his body was carried to the mortuary chapel -on the estate, where the burial service of the Anglican Church was -read. The coffin was then carried back to Ravenhall: all the servants, -without exception, were dismissed for the day, and the four executors -proceeded to remove the body to the secret crypt.</p> - -<p>Such was the singular testament of Lancelot Ravengar, first Earl -of Ormsby, and its injunctions were faithfully observed by all his -successors in the title.</p> - -<p>Some years prior to the events related in the prologue of this story, -the dignity of the family was represented by Urien Ravengar, the tenth -peer. He was the father of Olave, Viscount Walden, who, as being the -only son, and heir to the title and estates, was naturally the object -of his father's affection. The old earl did not keep a steward, being -content to leave his affairs in the hands of the young viscount, who -consequently managed his father's correspondence, all letters addressed -to the earl being freely opened by the son.</p> - -<p>Then came a memorable day in the annals of the House of Ravengar.</p> - -<p>A letter arrived for the Earl bearing the postmark of a town in Kent. -Olave, who was passing through the entrance-hall at the time of its -delivery, took it from the servant, and, following his usual practice -in regard to his father's letters, opened it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p> - -<p>As he read he was observed to change colour, and to become strangely -agitated.</p> - -<p>Taking the letter with him he went at once to his father's study.</p> - -<p>What passed there no one ever learned, save that there were high words -between the two. That in itself was nothing new, the Ravengars being -noted for their proud spirit. In the end the study-door was flung open -by the earl who, with a face flaming with anger, cried:—</p> - -<p>"Leave the house."</p> - -<p>Olave, with a scornful glance at his father, obeyed.</p> - -<p>He went forth, saying nothing to any one as to the cause of the -rupture, making no mention of his destination or plans. Without a word -of farewell he disappeared from Ormsby. To all who had known him he -became as one dead.</p> - -<p>Every Sunday the earl, while at Ormsby, attended the parish church with -commendable regularity, but vainly did he try to assume a brave air: -it was clear to all that he felt the loss of his son, and that he was -aging in consequence.</p> - -<p>Five—seven—ten years rolled away, and now the old earl lay dying in -his grand bedchamber at Ravenhall. A wild evening had set in, and the -herring-fishers, on the point of sailing for the Dogger Bank, put off -their expedition for more propitious weather.</p> - -<p>The dying man moaned uneasily. His mind was wandering, and he -frequently murmured the name of the absent Olave.</p> - -<p>Louder and ever louder grew the wind, till at length it arose to a -gale. The gloom of night was illumined by vivid lightning-flashes -accompanied by peals of thunder. The distant roar of the sea could be -plainly heard at Ravenhall. News came that a yacht, supposed to be -French, was foundering upon the rocks of Ormsby Race<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> in full sight -of hundreds of spectators on the beach, who were powerless to give -help. None of the servants at Ravenhall, however, felt disposed to go -and view the wreck: their master's death, which was hourly expected, -affected them far more than the drowning of a hundred strangers. -They clustered in the entrance-hall, waiting for the fatal news, and -conversing in hushed tones.</p> - -<p>Suddenly, out of the darkness, there stalked into the entrance-hall a -lofty figure, drenched to the skin, without hat or cloak, his long hair -lying wet and lank on his pale cheek.</p> - -<p>He looked neither to right nor left, asked no question of the startled -servants, but passed quickly up the grand staircase with the air of one -to whom the way was familiar, with the air of one, too, who had the -right to do as he did. Like the electric flash, he had come and gone in -a moment.</p> - -<p>"Lord save us!" gasped the butler, a lifelong servitor of the family. -"Here's Master Olave come back after all these years!"</p> - -<p>Olave it was. He had evidently received some intimation of his father's -condition, for he walked to the bedroom where the earl lay dying. To -the three persons at the bedside, physician, nurse, and rector, he was -a stranger, but his likeness to the patient was sufficiently striking -to apprise them at once of the relationship.</p> - -<p>The viscount, keeping in the background, addressed himself to the -physician.</p> - -<p>"How is he?"</p> - -<p>"Sinking fast."</p> - -<p>"Is his mind clear?"</p> - -<p>"Now it is. He wandered earlier in the evening."</p> - -<p>"Then leave us, please."</p> - -<p>There was something so authoritative in the viscount's manner that the -three watchers were constrained to obey.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> - -<p>What took place in their absence was never known. The interview was -of short duration, and ended in a cry from the earl, which brought -physician and nurse hurrying into the apartment.</p> - -<p>"He is dead," said Olave.</p> - -<p>There was no trace of sorrow in his voice, nor, in justice be it added, -of satisfaction: a quiet, impassive utterance.</p> - -<p>He stood with folded arms till his words had been endorsed by the -physician, and then, without so little as a glance at the dead earl, -the living earl strode from the apartment.</p> - -<p>The nurse closed the eyes of her charge, shuddering as she did so, for -the countenance of the dead man was marked by a ferocity of expression -which showed that his last feelings were those of hatred.</p> - -<p>A rumour soon arose that the old earl had died in the very act of -cursing his son. The rumour may have been false, but certain it is that -the new earl took no pains to contradict it.</p> - -<p>Urien, tenth Earl of Ormsby, was interred according to the rite -instituted by the first peer: and the returned Olave, after giving the -family solicitor sufficient proof of his identity, assumed his station -as master of Ravenhall.</p> - -<p>Where he had spent the previous ten years was a mystery to everybody -except, perhaps, his lawyer. The earl maintained absolute reticence as -to this part of his career, and the sternness of his manner when the -question was once put to him by an indiscreet lady, checked all further -attempts on the part of the inquisitive.</p> - -<p>He somewhat scandalised the good folk of Ormsby by marrying within two -months of his father's death the daughter of a neighbouring baronet. -His wedded life did not last long. Within a year his wife died, leaving -an infant son named Ivar.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p> - -<p>Henceforth the earl remained single.</p> - -<p>He had sadly changed from the lively youth whose pranks had been a -constant source of merriment to the people of Ormsby.</p> - -<p>His long absence had developed a cold and unsympathetic temperament -which led him to avoid society; and though he did not refrain from -giving an occasional dinner or ball, he was evidently bored by these -social offices. He found his greatest pleasure in the seclusion of the -magnificent library at Ravenhall. He withdrew himself more and more -from the world of men to the world of books.</p> - -<p>More than two decades went by, and the mystery which overhung the earl, -became a thing of the past, was forgotten by the people of Ormsby, or -at least was rarely recalled. Gossip occupied itself chiefly with the -doings of the earl's only son, Ivar, or to give him his courtesy title, -Viscount Walden, who was now in his twentieth year.</p> - -<p>To this son the earl appeared much attached: he designed him, so it was -rumoured, for the diplomatic service: and to this end Ivar, accompanied -by a tutor, was supposed to be travelling on the continent, perfecting -himself in foreign languages, and studying on the spot the workings of -the various European constitutions.</p> - -<p>All the collateral branches of the Ravengars had died out with the -exception of one family, and even this was limited to a single -person—Beatrice, daughter of Victor Ravengar. This Victor, the earl's -cousin in the sixth degree, had taken as his wife a widow with one son, -Godfrey by name. Beatrice was the sole issue of this marriage.</p> - -<p>The earl was naturally much interested in this little maiden as being -next in succession after his son: and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> accordingly when Beatrice became -an orphan at the age of sixteen (her parents having died within a month -of each other), the earl invited her and her half-brother, Godfrey -Rothwell—her senior by seven years—to take up their residence at -Ravenhall, offering to settle a handsome annuity upon each.</p> - -<p>But to the earl's surprise the favour was declined both by brother and -sister. It had happened that Mrs. Victor Ravengar had never been a very -welcome visitor at Ravenhall, the marriage having been regarded by the -earl as a mésalliance: and though Beatrice was of a forgiving nature, -she could not entirely forget sundry slights put upon her mother.</p> - -<p>Godfrey was determined not to eat the bread of dependency, and -Beatrice, who was devoted to her half-brother, sympathized with him -in this feeling, and refused to live apart from him. He had applied -himself to the study of medicine, and had lately set up in practice -at Ormsby. In Beatrice, Godfrey found a ready assistant. She helped -him in his surgery, often accompanied him when visiting his patients, -and never hesitated to take upon herself the duty of nurse if occasion -required. Hence she was all but worshipped by the people of Ormsby; the -earl might take their rents, but Beatrice possessed their hearts, and -often was regret expressed that it should be Viscount Walden, and not -Beatrice Ravengar, who must succeed to the fair demesne of Ravenhall.</p> - -<p>"Absolutely no more patients to visit," remarked Godfrey Rothwell, -returning home one afternoon to his neat little villa, called Wave -Crest.</p> - -<p>"Charming!" said Beatrice, clapping her hands. "It is so long since we -had an evening together."</p> - -<p>"Humph!" muttered Godfrey, lugubriously. "But we are doomed not to -spend it together. We have <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>received an invitation to dine this evening -at Ravenhall, where a small and select company is assembling to welcome -Master Ivar home. He returns to-night from the continent. The earl's -carriage will call for us at six, so we can't very well decline."</p> - -<p>Beatrice pouted her pretty lips. Simple in her tastes, unconventional -in her habits, she disliked the stately banquets, the funereal -grandeur, of Ravenhall. She would not, however, oppose her brother, and -that same night found them both within the drawing-room of Ravenhall, -conversing with their distant kinsman, the Earl of Ormsby.</p> - -<p>He was a man verging upon sixty; his hair and moustache were of an iron -grey; his eyes somewhat dimmed by long study; his features fine and -striking, but marked by an air of profound melancholy.</p> - -<p>He received Godfrey kindly, and made inquiries as to his medical -practice, but it was clear to all that his interest centred chiefly in -Beatrice, whom he kissed with an old-fashioned courtesy.</p> - -<p>Beatrice's figure was small and graceful, and her features, if not -precisely regular, were nevertheless very pretty, and rendered more -attractive by the sparkling colour and the vivacious expression -that played over them. She wore an evening dress of white silk with -a cluster of violets at her breast, a diamond star gleaming in her -bronzed hair, which was tied in a knot behind in antique Greek fashion. -In Godfrey's opinion his sister had never looked more charming than on -this evening.</p> - -<p>"You have the fairest face in all the county," said the old earl, -tenderly stroking her hair. "I wish that Ivar would think so," he added -significantly.</p> - -<p>It was not the first time that he had given expression to this wish in -the presence of Beatrice.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Did you notice what he said, Trixie," said Godfrey, when he had found -an opportunity of whispering to her. "He wants to see you married to -Ivar."</p> - -<p>But Beatrice Ravengar tossed her head in scorn.</p> - -<p>"No one who has sneered at you, as Ivar has, shall ever be husband of -mine, though he bring with him title and lands. It will require some -one a good deal better than Ivar to separate you and me, Godfrey," she -said, pressing his arm affectionately.</p> - -<p>Godfrey felt justly proud of his sister's attachment. How many women, -he thought, would willingly have thrown over a poor struggling medico -of a brother, and have become wild with joy at the idea of obtaining a -coronet and the stately towers of Ravenhall?</p> - -<p>Godfrey wondered, and not for the first time, why the earl should -desire this match, since Beatrice was portionless, and, therefore, from -a worldly point of view, no very desirable alliance for the heir of -the Ravengars. Godfrey had never quite taken to the earl: in fact, he -had a secret distrust of him, he could not tell why: and he refused to -believe that that peer's attitude towards Beatrice was dictated by pure -disinterestedness, though it was difficult to see how either the earl -or Ivar would be advantaged by the match.</p> - -<p>While Godfrey was occupied with these thoughts, the butler appeared -with the message that the keeper of the lodge had announced by -telephone the arrival of the viscount's carriage at the park-gates.</p> - -<p>"Let us give the heir of Ravenhall a welcome at his own portal," said -Lord Ormsby, rising; and without delay the company made their way -to the grand entrance-hall, where the butler, the housekeeper, and -the rest of the servants, were assembled to do honour to the young -viscount's return.</p> - -<p>On the panelled wall within the Gothic doorway, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> suspended by a -silver chain, was a bugle of ivory, wrought with gold, and decorated -with runic letters.</p> - -<p>It was a relic of ancient days, credited to have belonged originally to -the old Norse chieftain who had founded the House of Ravengar. Owing to -the peculiar construction of this bugle some practice was required by -those desirous of blowing it. Indeed, it was a family tradition that -in former times the only persons gifted with the power of sounding it -were the lord of Ravenhall and his immediate heir, all others essaying -the feat being foredoomed to failure. Hence, in mediæval times, when -the lords of Ravenhall returned from a Crusade, or some other equally -protracted war, it was their practice to sound this horn as a guarantee -of the legitimacy of their title.</p> - -<p>"We will greet the heir in the ancient fashion of our house," cried the -earl, a great upholder of the traditional usages of his family. "Pass -me the bugle. Jocelyn, the wine!"</p> - -<p>The butler, who was standing by, holding a silver tray with a decanter -on it, poured some port into the broad funnel-shaped end of the horn, -the tight-fitting silver cap over the mouthpiece preventing the -emission of the liquid.</p> - -<p>"Custom enjoins that a lady should hand the bugle to the returning -heir, and wish him welcome," said Lord Ormsby, fixing his eyes on -Beatrice.</p> - -<p>With some reluctance she accepted the bugle from the hand of the earl, -who briefly instructed her—Beatrice being not very well versed in -the Ravengar traditions—as to the form of words to be used in this -ceremony.</p> - -<p>The rattle of wheels was now heard coming along the avenue of -chestnuts, and amid murmurs of "Here he is!" from those assembled at -the porch, a brougham rolled up. When it had stopped, there alighted -a figure,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> fair, slight, and, though youthful, of decidedly <i>blasé</i> -appearance. He was dressed in a light travelling ulster, and held a -cigar between his fingers, throwing it away, however, as soon as he -beheld the company.</p> - -<p>"Welcome, Ivar," said the earl, warmly returning the clasp of his -son's hand: and then, waving him towards Beatrice, he continued, "But -one moment: we must not neglect the ancient custom of our house. Now, -Beatrice, you know the words."</p> - -<p>And Beatrice, holding aloft the horn of wine, in an attitude that -displayed all the grace of her figure, approached the young viscount.</p> - -<p>"Is it peace, O heir of Ravenhall?"</p> - -<p>"It is peace, O lady fair," replied the viscount, using the words of -the traditional formula.</p> - -<p>"Then drink of thine own, O heir of Ravenhall," continued Beatrice, -extending the bugle to him.</p> - -<p>"To the souls of the departed warriors," replied Ivar, tossing off the -contents at one draught. "Hum! port. Very good liquor for boys; but, I -confess, I like my <i>aliquid amari</i> stronger."</p> - -<p>This last sentence formed no part of the Ravengar ritual, and the earl, -who liked everything <i>en régle</i>, frowned slightly.</p> - -<p>"Now prove thy title, heir of Ravenhall."</p> - -<p>"Prove it? Ay, with a blast that shall rival that of the immortal -Roland."</p> - -<p>Removing the silver cap from the narrow end of the bugle, and placing -the mouthpiece to his lips, Ivar blew with all his might. But no sound -issued from the horn other than that of a faint soughing. The viscount, -surprised at this result, removed the bugle from his mouth, and eyed it -curiously. Then, thinking he had perhaps employed too much force, he -blew again, but this time more gently.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> - -<p>The bugle continued silent. The company looked at each other in -surprise, tinged with amusement. The earl, however, seemed to take it -much amiss. Beatrice found his eyes set upon her, and upon her only, -with a look that made her feel uncomfortable, for it somehow conveyed -to her mind the idea that he was mentally blaming <i>her</i> for his son's -failure!</p> - -<p>"This is a very serious matter, you know," said the viscount, looking -round upon the company with an air of mock gravity. "The ancestral -bugle refuses—positively refuses—to acknowledge me as the heir of -Ravenhall."</p> - -<p>"Try again, Ivar," said the earl.</p> - -<p>"Not I. Devil take the bugle," exclaimed Ivar laughing. "Let us read -a parable in my failure. In days of old the blast of the horn was the -sign of battle; its silence implies that we Ravengars have no longer -to vindicate our title by arms. But it permits me to drink, thereby -symbolizing that peace and festivity are now to be our lot. Have I not -said?" he added, theatrically, turning to his father. "And now, this -fantasia being over—— Why? what? is this little Trixie?"</p> - -<p>Till that moment he had not recognized Beatrice, so much did she differ -from her appearance when last seen by him; but now that recognition -came, he stopped short in surprise at her loveliness.</p> - -<p>"Trixie!" he repeated.</p> - -<p>He bent forward as if to kiss her, but, with quiet dignity, Beatrice -drew back, offering her hand.</p> - -<p>"What, and must we dispense with the sweet greeting of old days? Nay, -then."</p> - -<p>And with this he seized her in his arms, and pressed his lips to hers -in kisses of a distinctly vinous flavour.</p> - -<p>"How dare you?" exclaimed Beatrice, breaking breathlessly and -indignantly from his embrace.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER II</span> <span class="smaller">THE MYSTERY OF THE RELIQUARY</span></h2> - -<p>Ivar, with a laugh at Beatrice's indignation, turned his attention to -the brougham, apparently with a view of superintending the removal of -his <i>impedimenta</i>.</p> - -<p>"O, never mind your luggage," said the earl, in some surprise. "Jocelyn -will see to that."</p> - -<p>But Ivar, ignoring the suggestion, was concentrating all his care upon -what seemed to be a long box wrapped in a covering of coarse linen. -This a footman was bringing into the hall upon his shoulders, and -while giving his burden a jerk to place it in a position more easy for -carrying, the cloth, by some mischance, became partly ripped open.</p> - -<p>A half-smothered exclamation and an angry glance at the awkward footman -were eloquently expressive of Ivar's annoyance.</p> - -<p>"Eh! what have we here?" said the earl, motioning the bearer to lay -down his burden.</p> - -<p>He removed the cloth, and all crowded round to admire the richness -and beauty of the object thus revealed to view. It was a chest of -black wood bound at the corners with silver. The lid and sides were -divided into compartments, carved with alto-relievos of a decidedly -ecclesiastical character.</p> - -<p>"This is a very fine work of art," said Lord Ormsby, who was somewhat -of an authority on antiquities. Putting on his <i>pince-nez</i> he stooped -to examine the chest more closely. "French, I should judge, of the -fourteenth century. What wood is it?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Cypress."</p> - -<p>Godfrey did not fail to notice Ivar's somewhat sullen intonation.</p> - -<p>"And the cypress," remarked the earl, "is the emblem of death. This -chest is evidently one of those shrines in which mediæval folk put the -relics of their saints."</p> - -<p>"Yes, it is a reliquary."</p> - -<p>"How did you become its possessor?"</p> - -<p>"I bought it from the sacristan of an old church in Brittany. Whence -he obtained it is perhaps easy to guess. Naturally I refrained from -questioning him too closely."</p> - -<p>Lord Ormsby shot a curious glance at his son.</p> - -<p>"O, did you extend your tour to Brittany, then?" he observed: -after which he refrained from further remarks, becoming silent -and thoughtful, as if his mind had been stirred by some troubling -reminiscence.</p> - -<p>"Does it still contain the bones of the saint?" asked Godfrey, -jocularly.</p> - -<p>"It contains souvenirs of my continental tour—nothing more," replied -Ivar with a dark glance, as if inviting the surgeon to mind his own -business.</p> - -<p>And then, apparently impatient of further questions, he cut the matter -short by motioning the man to take up the chest again, and he himself -led the way up the grand staircase to his own bedroom, where, after -seeing the precious reliquary locked within a wardrobe, he seemed to be -more at ease.</p> - -<p>The irritation betrayed by Ivar over this incident puzzled Beatrice, -and left a somewhat disagreeable impression upon her mind.</p> - -<p>"Master Ivar," she whispered to her brother, "was trying to smuggle -that chest into Ravenhall. Why should he desire to conceal the fact -that he is bringing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> home a reliquary? Depend upon it, the chest -contains something that he does not wish his father to see. What can it -be?"</p> - -<p>During the course of the dinner that followed, Ivar was the principal -speaker, rattling off various incidents of his continental tour.</p> - -<p>There was nothing particularly edifying or brilliant in these -reminiscences, but Lord Ormsby evidently thought otherwise: for, from -time to time he would turn to his guests with an air of pride, as if -inviting them to take note of his son's remarks.</p> - -<p>"That is one good trait in the earl's character," thought Beatrice. -"He has great affection for his son. I doubt very much whether the son -deserves it."</p> - -<p>When, at a late hour, she and her brother rose to take their departure, -so heavy a storm was raging that the earl pressed them to stay for the -night, and to this arrangement Godfrey and his sister assented, the -former little foreseeing that his stay would have a remarkable bearing -on the events of the future.</p> - -<p>"Well, Ivar," said the earl, when the two found themselves alone. "What -do you think of Beatrice?"</p> - -<p>"She has grown devilishly handsome."</p> - -<p>"She is a girl whom any man might be proud to marry."</p> - -<p>Ivar was resting his head upon his hand, and his face was hidden in -shadow: therefore the earl did not perceive the sudden change in his -son's expression.</p> - -<p>"Marry?" echoed the viscount.</p> - -<p>"I want to see you married, Ivar, and to no one but Beatrice."</p> - -<p>"The devil!" muttered Ivar uneasily; and then, aloud, he added, "Does -Trixie know of this wish of yours?"</p> - -<p>"I have occasionally hinted at it."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Her manner towards me to-night can scarcely be called encouraging. She -was decidedly cold and standoffish."</p> - -<p>"Perseverance on your part will soon overcome her indifference."</p> - -<p>"If I must take a wife, why must she be cousin Trixie, seeing that she -hasn't a penny to bless herself with?"</p> - -<p>"She is richer than you or I," said the earl, with a dry laugh. "Ivar, -I am about to tell you a secret, the knowledge of which will soon cause -you to waive your objection—if you have any—to this match."</p> - -<p>"Richer than I," thought Ivar. "What does the old fool mean?"</p> - -<p>The earl seemed ill at ease. He remained silent for several minutes, -evidently debating within himself as to the wisdom of disclosing the -secret. At last, after glancing all around the apartment, as if to make -certain that no one was within hearing, he bent forward in his chair -towards Ivar, and began to speak in a low tone. The communication took -a long time in the telling, and when it was ended, the viscount sat in -silence with a look of consternation on his face.</p> - -<p>Recovering from his amazement he muttered hoarsely, "Why have you not -told me of this before?"</p> - -<p>"You were not of an age to hear it. You are old enough now to -understand the virtues of silence and secrecy."</p> - -<p>"And this, this son—what did you call him, Idris?—where is he now?"</p> - -<p>For reply Lord Ormsby produced from the bookcase a copy of the <i>Times</i> -newspaper, dated seven years previously.</p> - -<p>One of its columns was headed, "Terrible fire at Paris. Burning of the -<i>Hôtel de l'Univers</i>." The earl's <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>forefinger, moving down a list of -victims, stopped at the name, "Idris Marville, aged 23."</p> - -<p>Ivar's features relaxed something of their dismay.</p> - -<p>"Satisfactory from my point of view," he muttered.</p> - -<p>"None but you and I know this secret, but it is perpetually open to -discovery as long as that church and its records exist. You now see the -necessity for this match with Beatrice. Ravenhall and the coronet are -really hers. Marry her then, and you will thus secure your position as -lord of Ravenhall.—What is your answer?"</p> - -<p>"Humph! Suppose it'll have to be."</p> - -<p>The sullen look on Ivar's face caused his father to elevate his -eyebrows in surprise. It certainly <i>did</i> seem strange that the -viscount, who had pronounced Beatrice to be "devilishly handsome," -should evince dissatisfaction at the prospect of marrying her!</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * *</p> - -<p>The sleeping apartment allotted to Godfrey Rothwell contained the most -luxurious bed he had ever occupied, and he speedily fell into a sound -sleep, from which he was abruptly roused by a noise in the corridor -outside his bedroom door.</p> - -<p>He sat up and listened. Before stepping into bed he had switched off -the electric light, but the darkness now became faintly illumined by a -horizontal line of light appearing at the foot of the door. Its origin -was obvious: some one was walking in the corridor and bearing a lamp or -candle.</p> - -<p>The line of light had no sooner appeared than it disappeared, showing -that the person had passed by.</p> - -<p>Moved by the thought that it might be a burglar, Godfrey stepped -quietly from his bed, and cautiously opening the door to the extent of -a few inches, peeped out.</p> - -<p>There, a few feet distant, with his back towards him,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> was Viscount -Walden moving quietly along the corridor. Evidently he had not been to -bed, for he was still wearing the dress suit he had worn at dinner: to -it he had added a hard felt hat, into the brim of which there was stuck -a lighted candle, after the fashion of a Cornish miner.</p> - -<p>With both hands he was half-dragging, half-carrying the cypress chest -about which he had displayed so much concern. It was the accidental -fall of this reliquary that had roused Godfrey from sleep.</p> - -<p>Now, when a young man is detected in the dead of night stealing along -with a reliquary that he has tried to introduce surreptitiously into -his father's house, it may be inferred that he is actuated by a bad -motive; such, at least, was Godfrey's inference. Accordingly, though -conscious of the meanness of espionage, yet, moved by a feeling for -which he could not account, he resolved to follow the viscount, and -ascertain, if possible, the meaning of this strange proceeding.</p> - -<p>Waiting till Ivar had turned a corner of the corridor, Godfrey, having -hurriedly slipped into his clothes, stole forth in his stockinged feet -and followed at a distance, lurking within the shadows, and exercising -the utmost vigilance to prevent himself from being seen. Fortunately, -there were at intervals, various pieces of furniture, as well as -curtains and recesses, of all which Godfrey took prompt advantage -whenever Ivar seemed on the point of giving a backward glance.</p> - -<p>The viscount's course, after he had left the corridor in which the -bedrooms were situated, conducted him down a staircase and along a -second corridor, this latter terminating at the door of the Picture -Gallery. Here he paused, and sat down upon the box to rest himself. He -was no athlete, and the moving of this heavy chest was a tax upon his -strength.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> - -<p>By the grim and dismal circle of light shed around by the taper in -Ivar's hat Godfrey could see that the viscount's face was pale and -marked by an expression of fear, and that he gave a start at the sudden -coughing of the night wind among the trees without.</p> - -<p>Some of the fear manifested by him seemed to pass over to Godfrey, who -found himself becoming strangely suspicious as to the contents of the -chest. The secrecy observed by the viscount was extremely suggestive -of the theory of crime. Was the reliquary the receptacle of guilty -evidence which Ivar, unable to dispose of elsewhere, was bringing to -Ravenhall as the safest place of concealment?</p> - -<p>The reliquary itself, apart altogether from the consideration of its -contents, had something gruesome about it. Though the exterior carvings -were mediæval in character, Godfrey, who was somewhat of a connoisseur -on wood, had felt, when surveying the chest at the entrance-hall, that -it was far more ancient than the middle ages: with that durability -peculiar to cypress wood, the chest might have seen the classic days of -Greece: differing little in shape from an Egyptian mummy-case, it might -have held the embalmed remains of a Rameses: nay, its antiquity perhaps -antedated the very Pyramids themselves!</p> - -<p>He had ample leisure for these reflections, for the viscount, having -once seated himself, seemed loth to move forward again.</p> - -<p>At last, pulling out a spirit flask, Ivar took a deep draught, and, -rising to his feet, produced a key with which he unlocked the door of -the Picture Gallery.</p> - -<p>Then, lifting the reliquary by means of a silver ring affixed to the -lid, he proceeded to traverse the entire length of the hall, dragging -his burden with him.</p> - -<p>Godfrey, who was no stranger to the place, surmised<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> that the -viscount's journey was almost at an end, since the gallery terminated -in a room from which Ivar would have no egress, except by the same door -that he was now approaching.</p> - -<p>The viscount's first act on entering the room was to close the door. -Upon this Godfrey glided swiftly forward, and falling upon one knee, -endeavoured to obtain a glimpse of the interior by applying his eye to -the keyhole. In this he was thwarted by the key in the lock, and though -the key was on his side of the door, he hesitated to remove it, lest -the sound should attract Ivar's attention.</p> - -<p>Godfrey could detect no light within the chamber, and therefore he -assumed that Ivar must have extinguished his taper.</p> - -<p>Why?</p> - -<p>Godfrey placed his ear to the door. No sound came from within. If -the room contained an occupant, that occupant was motionless, or, if -moving, was moving silently and in the dark.</p> - -<p>Then suddenly it occurred to him that perhaps Ivar had quitted the -chamber by a secret exit known only to himself.</p> - -<p>Godfrey grew perplexed, impatient. In standing thus inactive he was -losing the chance of discovering the viscount's secret. Still, Ivar -might be within, and the surgeon deemed it imprudent to push open the -door.</p> - -<p>A way of solving the difficulty presented itself. He suddenly turned -the key in the lock, clicking it loudly, to the end that, if Ivar were -really within, he could not fail to learn that he was now a prisoner.</p> - -<p>Godfrey listened. There was no cry of surprise: no hasty rush of feet -to the door: no movement at all. After waiting a few moments, he came -to the conclusion that the room was untenanted.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> - -<p>He turned the key, and pushed open the door.</p> - -<p>Aided by a subdued light, tender and dreamy, that stole through a -latticed casement, he had visible proof that the chamber was devoid of -anything in human shape. The cypress chest had also vanished.</p> - -<p>No way of egress was visible save by the window; but Ivar had not made -his exit by this, as the state of its fastenings clearly showed. His -disappearance was obviously due to the existence of some secret passage.</p> - -<p>Godfrey, loth to turn back now that he had come thus far, resolved to -make an examination of the room, even at the risk of being discovered -by the returning Ivar.</p> - -<p>He began his search with the fireplace.</p> - -<p>Surely some propitious fairy was directing his steps! A long slab of -stone, that formed one side of the fireplace, had sunk to the level -of the hearth, revealing a passage behind. This slab was worked by a -pulley, since he could feel at each side the ropes by which it had been -lowered; but without stopping to examine the mechanism, he entered the -passage and moved forwards through the darkness, exploring the way -before him both with hand and foot in order to guard against a possible -precipitation down a flight of stairs. The sequel justified this -precaution, for he soon found himself at the head of a flight of stone -steps. He counted forty of them before he reached the level flooring -of another passage. At the end of this a faint light could be seen -proceeding from behind a door that stood ajar. He concluded that the -viscount had at last attained his destination, and was occupied on the -task, whatever it was, that had brought him there.</p> - -<p>Godfrey, drawing near, ventured to take a peep through the -partly-opened door, and caught a glimpse of a large stone chamber, -octagonal in shape. From its vaulted roof hung a lighted sconce. -No window was visible,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> and, connecting this circumstance with the -number of stairs he had descended, Godfrey was of opinion that it was -a subterranean chamber. The floor was devoid of carpet, and the only -pieces of furniture were a table of carved oak and four antique chairs -of the same material.</p> - -<p>Of the eight sides of the chamber one was occupied by the doorway where -Godfrey stood: the other seven were severally pierced by recesses, -the depth of which he was unable to ascertain, since the entrance of -each was hung with a curtain of black velvet of such length that the -silver lace fringing its foot touched the floor. The curtains draping -two of the alcoves were plain: the remaining five were adorned with -lettering worked in silver thread. As he read the lettering by the -light of the flame that burned in the antique sconce Godfrey, familiar -though he was with death, dissection, and all that the non-medical mind -regards as gruesome, could not repress some uneasy sensations. That -silver lettering recorded the names and titles of the deceased Earls of -Ormsby, from Lancelot Ravengar, the first peer, to Urien Ravengar, the -tenth.</p> - -<p>Godfrey knew himself to be on forbidden ground. He was standing on the -threshold of the secret burial vault of the lords of Ravenhall!</p> - -<p>Ivar was in one of the alcoves, whither he had betaken himself with -the cypress chest, but as the curtain concealed him from view, it -was impossible for Godfrey to see what the viscount was doing. What -Godfrey heard, however, was sufficiently alarming. From the recess came -a recurrence of sounds that could be attributed only to the use of a -screw-driver. There could be no doubt that Ivar was engaged in the work -of removing one of the coffin lids, and Godfrey felt, moreover, that -this act had some connection with the contents of the reliquary.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> - -<p>Was Ivar about to transfer the evidences of his guilt—for of his guilt -Godfrey now entertained no doubt—from the reliquary to one of the -coffins? There could scarcely be a safer place of concealment than a -coffin contained in a secret vault, the entrance of which was known to -four persons only. Yet this theory seemed precluded by the fact that -a coffin constructed to hold one body would not suffice for two. Ivar -could scarcely intend to carry off from the crypt the relics of one of -his ancestors, since he would have the same difficulty in disposing of -a dead earl as of less distinguished remains.</p> - -<p>Suddenly there came from Ivar a cry, or rather a yell; he dropped the -screw-driver, or whatever tool he was using, and thrusting aside the -black velvet curtain, staggered into the vault and tumbled into a -chair, where he sat for some moments, his eyes fixed in terror upon the -alcove from which he had emerged.</p> - -<p>"Bah!" he presently muttered. "What a fool I am! Yet I could swear I -heard a whisper coming from the coffin. By God! what creepy work this -is!"</p> - -<p>A long pull at the spirit flask seemed to infuse new courage into him. -He arose and moved again towards the alcove, though with somewhat slow -steps.</p> - -<p>As Ivar lifted the curtain Godfrey tried to ascertain what lay behind, -but succeeded only in catching a glimpse of the reliquary, which stood -on the floor with the taper-lit hat resting upon it.</p> - -<p>The viscount picked up the fallen tool and resumed the task of -screw-loosing. Then, after what seemed an age to the waiting surgeon, -the screw-driver was dropped, and Godfrey became aware that Ivar had -removed the coffin-lid, for he had placed it on the floor in such a -manner that one end of it projected beneath the curtain and appeared in -the vault.</p> - -<p>Godfrey was unable to tell what followed. Ivar's work,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> whatever its -character, was performed in silence, and lasted a considerable time.</p> - -<p>More than once Godfrey stole into the vault for the purpose of peering -behind the curtain, but on each occasion he did not get beyond the -table, the fear of detection restraining him from proceeding farther.</p> - -<p>Then, moved by a sudden impulse, he took out his penknife, and turning -to the alcove nearest the door, he quickly and silently cut off a -corner from the velvet drapery.</p> - -<p>"This may be of service," he thought, thrusting the fragment inside his -pocket, "if at any time it should become necessary to prove that I have -stood in the secret funeral vault of the Ravengars."</p> - -<p>Ivar's task was evidently coming to an end, for the coffin-lid was now -drawn from beneath the curtain into the alcove, and the peculiar sounds -caused by the application of the screw-driver recommenced.</p> - -<p>With their cessation Ivar reappeared from behind the curtain, wearing -his taper-lit hat again, and dragging the chest, which, judged by the -effort required for its removal, was in no way diminished from its -former weight—a circumstance which puzzled Godfrey not a little.</p> - -<p>He was preparing for flight, but as Ivar had seated himself in the -chair again, he was tempted to linger a moment.</p> - -<p>"Thank the devil that's over," said the viscount in a tone of -satisfaction, "and I hope Lorelie will be satisfied."</p> - -<p>"<i>Lorelie!</i>" murmured Godfrey with a start. "Lorelie! Surely he does -not mean Mademoiselle Rivière?"</p> - -<p>He had no time just then to consider this question, for Ivar, having -drained the few drops that remained in the flask, was now extinguishing -the flame in the sconce, preparatory to leaving the crypt.</p> - -<p>Godfrey immediately stole off, and succeeded in <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span>reaching his room -without detection. He went to bed again and slept soundly.</p> - -<p>He awoke to find the sun glinting pleasantly through the diamond panes. -The brightness of the morning had so cheering an effect on his spirits -that he felt disposed at first to regard the event of the preceding -night as the result of a dream.</p> - -<p>Then, his memory quickening, he thrust his hand beneath his pillow and -drew forth a piece of black velvet edged with silver lace.</p> - -<p>"It was no dream," he muttered, gazing at the relic. "I have really -stood in the secret burial vault of the Ravengars. What a story this -will be for Beatrice!"</p> - -<p>Godfrey was accustomed to make his sister his confidante in all things; -but, somehow, upon reflection, he resolved, for the present at least, -to maintain secrecy respecting Ivar's strange doings.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER III</span> <span class="smaller">IDRIS REDIVIVUS</span></h2> - -<p>"Ivar has been at home two months, yet we have had no visit from him."</p> - -<p>The speaker was Godfrey Rothwell, and the scene the breakfast-room of -his villa, Wave Crest.</p> - -<p>"Why should he visit us?" asked Beatrice.</p> - -<p>"Ahem! as a suitor for your hand, in compliance with his father's wish."</p> - -<p>"Ivar had better not insult me by such an offer."</p> - -<p>"An offer of marriage can scarcely be called an insult, Trixie."</p> - -<p>"It would be—from <i>him</i>," returned Beatrice with a heightened colour. -"I speak what I know," she added oracularly.</p> - -<p>She began to pour out the coffee: while Godfrey, somewhat puzzled by -her words, turned to the letters awaiting him. No sooner had he glanced -at the handwriting on the envelope of the first than he gave a great -start.</p> - -<p>"Heavens! have the dead returned to life?"</p> - -<p>He hastily broke the seal and ran his eye over the letter, while the -mystified Beatrice awaited the explanation of his words.</p> - -<p>"From my old college-friend, Idris Marville."</p> - -<p>"What?" cried Beatrice with a little scream of surprise. "Is he not -dead, then? Did he escape the fire?"</p> - -<p>"That's self-evident. There has been a dreadful mistake somewhere. He -will prove that he is alive by <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span>paying us a visit. In fact, he will be -here this very morning. Well, this <i>is</i> a surprise!"</p> - -<p>"More—a pleasure," added his sister.</p> - -<p>Beatrice had never seen Idris, but she had often heard of him from -Godfrey, and knew the painful story of his boyhood. She was aware, too, -that on one occasion, Godfrey, being in pecuniary difficulties, had -applied to Idris in preference to the Earl of Ormsby, and had received -by return of post a handsome cheque. The memory of this event was still -fresh in her mind, and she was desirous of showing her gratitude to her -brother's benefactor.</p> - -<p>"He signs himself 'Breakspear,' I see," she said, glancing at the -signature of Idris.</p> - -<p>"Yes: he has dropped the name of Marville, and has taken his mother's -maiden name. It is easy to guess his reason."</p> - -<p>True to the promise contained in his letter Idris arrived that same -morning, and Beatrice took a good view of him from behind the curtain -of her bedroom window, as he strode up the garden path accompanied by -Godfrey.</p> - -<p>Twenty-three years had passed since that memorable night at Quilaix, -and Idris was now verging upon thirty—dark-eyed, handsome, athletic, -with a face bronzed by southern suns. His appearance impressed Beatrice -favourably.</p> - -<p>"There is nothing mean or ignoble about <i>him</i>," she murmured.</p> - -<p>The first greetings being ended, Idris sat down to a pleasant luncheon, -presided over by Beatrice.</p> - -<p>"Your name has been so often on Godfrey's lips," she said, "that you -seem quite like an old friend, though I never thought to see you after -the announcement of your death in the newspapers."</p> - -<p>Idris smiled.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Perhaps I have done wrong in letting people think that I perished in -the burning of the '<i>Hôtel de l'Univers</i>.' At the time of the fire I -was at the opera-house. On leaving I found the boulevards ringing with -the news. I bought a newspaper and discovered my own name erroneously -inserted among the list of victims. I resolved not to set the mistake -right, for it suddenly occurred to me that here was a convenient -opportunity to die—to the world. Wherever I went, the name Marville -recalled my father's crime, or rather, supposed crime. 'Let the world -think that Eric Marville's son is dead,' I thought, 'and let him begin -life anew, and under a different name.'"</p> - -<p>"Was the yacht <i>Nemesis</i>, in which your father escaped, never heard of -again?" asked Godfrey.</p> - -<p>"It vanished, leaving not a trace behind."</p> - -<p>"Strange! The news of your father's escape, together with a description -of the delinquent vessel, would be telegraphed to all civilized -countries. Every ocean-steamer, every seaport, would be on the watch -for the yacht, and yet you say it was never seen again."</p> - -<p>"Its disappearance shows how well Captain Rochefort had devised his -plans," Idris answered.</p> - -<p>"Since your father did not communicate with you, his only son, it -follows, almost as a matter of course, that he did not communicate with -his more distant relatives?"</p> - -<p>"His relatives, if he had any, are unknown to me: in fact, I am quite -in the dark as to my father's antecedents. Among all his papers there -was not one letter relating to his kinsfolk, nor any clue whatever to -indicate his history prior to his settling at Nantes in 1866."</p> - -<p>"You are certain that your father was English born? Because if so, his -name, and date and place of birth, together with his parents' names, -should be among the records of Somerset House."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I have tried Somerset House, and have traced several Eric Marvilles, -some living and some dead, but none of them could I identify as my -father. I am sometimes disposed to believe that Marville was not his -real name, but one assumed by him on settling at Nantes."</p> - -<p>"Cannot your mother's relatives give you any information?"</p> - -<p>"They, too, are ignorant of my father's origin. My mother was an -English governess at Nantes when she first met my father. A few months -after her marriage the death of an aunt endowed her with an ample -fortune, a fortune which has devolved upon me."</p> - -<p>"If twenty-three years have passed since your father was last heard -of," said Beatrice, "do you not think that the probabilities point to -his death? He must be dead," she added. "He would not be so unfatherly -as not to communicate with you during all these years."</p> - -<p>"That is my opinion—at times: and at other times I think he is still -living, but resolved, from some mistaken notion of honour, to ignore me -until he can give me the heritage of a fair name."</p> - -<p>"If he is alive," continued Beatrice, "he has perhaps married again, -and has children, and, though it sounds harsh to say it, other and new -interests which your appearance on the scene might embarrass."</p> - -<p>This was a bitter thought, but by no means new to Idris.</p> - -<p>"I trust I am not offending you by the question," observed Godfrey, -"but do you really, in your heart of hearts, believe that your father -was innocent?"</p> - -<p>"There, the torture. My mother was firmly convinced of his innocence, -and only an hour or two before her death, as if gifted with prevision, -she did her best to impress me with her belief; nay, more, she made me -take an oath that I would, on attaining manhood, use all my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> endeavours -to clear my father's name. Yet the thought often strikes me that I am -nursing an illusion in thinking him innocent. Who am I that I should -set up my opinion against that of the judge, the jury, and the press?"</p> - -<p>"And the masked man who stole the runic ring—what of him?" Godfrey -asked.</p> - -<p>"He, too, is a person who has eluded all my inquiries. And small -wonder! Had I been a man at the time when these events happened, -instead of a boy of seven, my investigations, begun at once, might -have met with success, whereas the long lapse of years has handicapped -my efforts. And yet, fanciful as it may sound to you, Godfrey, I am -not without hope, even at this late day, of finding my father, and of -vindicating his innocence. At any rate, this is the object to which my -life is devoted, and from which I shall never swerve."</p> - -<p>And Idris, having satisfied the curiosity of his friends on various -other points, immaterial in themselves, dropped the subject, and the -conversation flowed into other channels.</p> - -<p>Presently they were interrupted by the appearance of the page-boy, -with a note addressed to Godfrey, who, finding that he was wanted in a -critical case, withdrew, leaving Beatrice to entertain the guest.</p> - -<p>"I am afraid, Mr. Breakspear," she said, "that you will spend a rather -dull time here; our household is a quiet one, and Ormsby offers little -in the shape of entertainment. Our only show-places are the old Saxon -church on the hill-top, and Ravenhall—Lord Ormsby's seat."</p> - -<p>"I think I'll take a stroll towards the old Saxon church," said Idris, -who was simple in his tastes, and easily pleased.</p> - -<p>"I have to pass that way," Beatrice said, "and, if you care to -accompany me——"</p> - -<p>Idris, who found Beatrice's soft grey eyes very <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>attractive, readily -accepted her offer; and, after a pleasant walk of half an hour, the two -reached the ancient church of the Northumbrian saint, Oswald.</p> - -<p>"This," said Beatrice, as they passed through an arched doorway, and -stood within the subdued light cast by the stained glass, "this is the -Ravengar Chantry."</p> - -<p>"A sort of oratory and burial-place of the Ravengars?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. These monumental brasses are the tombs of my ancestors, that is, -of those who antedated the Restoration; those who lived after that -time are interred in the private crypt at Ravenhall. For you must -know—— Ah, listen!" she said, breaking off abruptly. "Some one is -playing the organ."</p> - -<p>"And playing with a masterly touch, too," remarked Idris, after a brief -interval of listening.</p> - -<p>"Who can it be?" murmured Beatrice. "Our own organist is not capable of -such music."</p> - -<p>She was about to advance on tiptoe from the transept to the nave in -order to obtain a view of the organ-loft, but Idris gently checked her.</p> - -<p>"Stay a moment. If we show ourselves we may disconcert the musician and -put an end to his playing."</p> - -<p>He sat down on a stone seat in the transept. Beatrice followed his -example: and for several minutes they listened in silence, entranced by -the sweet and noble strains flowing from the organ-loft.</p> - -<p>Then, gradually, a peculiar change came over the spirit of the music.</p> - -<p>"Ah! what an eerie strain!" murmured Beatrice, a shiver passing over -her.</p> - -<p>Idris, too, found himself curiously affected. Becoming oblivious of -external things, yielding himself entirely to the influence of the -music, he essayed to enter into the spirit and meaning of the piece. -Those solemn rhythmic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> cadences that thrilled him with a melancholy awe -could be interpreted only as a Funeral March. At intervals there pealed -from the organ shivering, staccato notes, like the heart-sobs of those -who "keen" for the dead, succeeded by a mournful, stately measure, as -if the cold voice of Fate were declaring that death must be endured -as the common lot of all. The very soul of grief was voiced in those -notes, which, lofty and sad, mysterious as the moonlight, seemed to -weep as they kissed the cold stones of the chantry.</p> - -<p>During the dream-like spell induced by the weird character of the -requiem Idris suddenly became subject to a very strange feeling, the -like of which he had never before known. Vivid as fire on a dark night -there came upon him the startling conviction that this was not his -first visit to the Church of St. Oswald. He had been in this chantry in -time past; he had seen these monumental brasses before: that Funeral -March was a familiar air. The interior of the edifice was as the face -of an old friend who has not been seen for years.</p> - -<p>He was sitting in a part of the transept from which it was impossible -for him to view the opposite ends of the nave, unless he possessed the -power of being able to see around a distant corner; yet, directing -his mental eye towards the interior of the church, he could see the -chancel-window at its eastern end, and the hexagonal font by the -western porch.</p> - -<p>He felt that he could find his way about the building without once -stumbling, even though it were wrapped in the gloom of night. Every -part of it, from the belfry tower above to the crypt below, was -familiar ground.</p> - -<p>With a solemn and long drawn-out diminuendo the music ceased.</p> - -<p>Shivering like one roused from a sleep upon the cold<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> ground Idris -started from his reverie, to find Beatrice regarding him with a -curious, half-frightened look.</p> - -<p>"A penny for your thoughts, Mr. Breakspear. I have spoken to you three -times, and you have given me no answer. Have you seen a ghost? You look -quite 'fey,' as we say in these parts."</p> - -<p>"I have been subjected to a very singular experience," Idris answered, -looking around with a perplexed air. "Till to-day I have never set -foot in Ormsby. Yet I know this church, know it as well as I know my -chambers in the Albany. Now, tell me, does not the chancel-window -contain three divisions?"</p> - -<p>Beatrice murmured an affirmative, seeing nothing wonderful in Idris' -remark, inasmuch as chancel-windows usually contain three divisions.</p> - -<p>"And in the central pane is painted the Madonna, treading upon the Old -Dragon, with the Holy Child in her arms?"</p> - -<p>Beatrice, beginning to be surprised, said that this was correct.</p> - -<p>"The right-hand pane represents King Oswald setting up the Cross as his -standard for battle, while the left portrays him at his palace-gate, -distributing his gold and silver plate among the poor."</p> - -<p>"Yes. How do you know, if you have never been here before?" Beatrice -burst forth, her amazement increasing as Idris proceeded to enumerate -other details.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Breakspear, you <i>must</i> have been here before!"</p> - -<p>"Never! I solemnly assure you; at least, not in the body."</p> - -<p>He walked towards the head of an oblong marble sepulchre, surmounted by -the gilt effigy of a crusading Ravengar, lying in cross-legged repose.</p> - -<p>"Mark me," he said, turning to Beatrice, "I shall find<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> on the other -side of this tomb a circular hole large enough to admit my hand."</p> - -<p>At the foot of the stone knight was sculptured the heraldic shield -of the Ravengars, much defaced, and crumbling with age; in the first -quartering of which was a round orifice of sufficient dimensions to -admit the insertion of Idris' hand.</p> - -<p>"What do you say to this?" he asked of Beatrice, who had followed him -to the tomb.</p> - -<p>But Beatrice, full of wonderment, could say nothing.</p> - -<p>"I have a distinct remembrance of placing my hand here in days gone -by," Idris continued. "Yes: I have been in this church before: I am -as certain of that as I am of my own existence. But how? There's the -puzzle. Not in the body, for my life has been passed at a distance from -Ormsby. How then? Has the knowledge been imparted to me in a dream? -Or is it a fact that during sleep the spirit of man may visit distant -places? Or was old Pythagoras right in asserting that we have all had a -previous existence? Am I a reincarnation of one who was familiar with -this place in time past? Miss Ravengar, how is one to explain this -psychological puzzle?"</p> - -<p>Beatrice's reply was checked by a light footfall. A young lady, attired -in a soft clinging dress of muslin, was coming slowly towards the -chantry.</p> - -<p>Idris looked up and met her eyes, eyes of a dark, tender violet. One -glance: and then—and then——</p> - -<p>If he had been previously required to write an essay on love, that -essay would have run on the lines that love, to be sincere and lasting, -must be grounded on the esteem that a man and a woman have for each -other's good qualities; that love therefore must be the product of -time; and that, consequently, genuine love at first sight is an -impossibility.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> - -<p>He thought differently now, as he gazed upon a face fairer than any he -had ever seen: so pure the spirit breathing from it that, like the face -of a Madonna upon a cathedral window, it seemed hallowed by a light -coming from beyond.</p> - -<p>If, in the language of the mystic, all beauty be a manifestation of the -Divinity, is it any marvel that Idris, as he stood mute and motionless, -should have felt an awe, a sense of adoration, stealing over him?</p> - -<p>As the young lady drew near she acknowledged Beatrice's presence with -an inclination of her head, an action to which Beatrice responded with -a frigid air, an air that seemed to trouble the other, for her eyes -drooped, and a faint colour mantled her face. With quiet dignity she -passed by, and the next moment had vanished through the porch.</p> - -<p>Not till then did Idris find his tongue.</p> - -<p>"What a divine face!" he murmured. "Who is she?"</p> - -<p>"Her name is Rivière—Lorelie Rivière," answered Beatrice somewhat -coldly.</p> - -<p>"Rivière. She is French, then?"</p> - -<p>Though evidently disinclined to pursue the subject, Beatrice, seeing -Idris' interest in the stranger, proceeded to enlighten him so far as -she was able.</p> - -<p>"Mademoiselle Rivière is a lady, apparently of independent means. She -came to Ormsby about four months ago, taking for her residence The -Cedars, a villa on the North Road. She lives a quiet and secluded life. -Her name indicates French nationality, but beyond that fact no one -knows anything of her origin and antecedents. Godfrey once attended -her professionally, and she impressed him as being a lady of birth and -refinement: but," added Beatrice, compressing her lips, "<i>I</i> do not -like her."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p> - -<p>The tone in which she delivered herself of this last sentiment somewhat -vexed Idris: but whatever might be the cause of her dislike, he felt -that it did not originate from jealousy of the stranger's beauty. -Beatrice was too high-minded to be actuated by so paltry a motive. For -his own part he could not associate anything bad with the sad grave -eyes of Lorelie Rivière. Beatrice, in her judgment of the other's -character, must surely be the victim of some misapprehension.</p> - -<p>"But—but—was she the musician?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"It seems so," replied Beatrice, moving into the nave. "There is no one -in the organ-loft now. But here comes the boy who blows. He will tell -us. Roger, was it Mademoiselle Rivière who was playing just now?"</p> - -<p>The lad gave an affirmative nod, and exhibited with pleasure the coin -he had received as a fee.</p> - -<p>"Comes here often," he said. "Calls at our cottage when she wants me to -blow."</p> - -<p>Idris was silent, marvelling that one so young should play with a touch -so masterly: marvelling still more that her music should have wrought -upon him an impression so weird.</p> - -<p>He moved around the church with Beatrice, and then mounted the stairs -leading to the gallery, feigning to be interested in what he saw, in -reality seeing nothing but the beautiful face of Lorelie Rivière.</p> - -<p>On the seat fronting the organ was a book, left behind probably by an -oversight. Idris lifted the volume, a handsome one, bound in vellum and -gold, and was much surprised at the title.</p> - -<p>"<i>Paulus Diaconus de Gestis Langobardorum</i>," he read aloud.</p> - -<p>"What a dreadful title!" murmured Beatrice. "What does it mean?"</p> - -<p>"It is Paul Warnefrid's <i>History of the Lombards</i>, a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> book you'll -scarcely meet with once in a lifetime. Quite a thrilling work, no -doubt, to antiquaries of the Dryasdust order, but I cannot imagine a -lady taking to this style of literature. To begin with, it's all in -Latin: evidently she understands that language."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps the book does not belong to Mademoiselle Rivière."</p> - -<p>"The margin of almost every page contains notes in a lady's -handwriting—obviously the remarks of one who understands the work. She -seems to have been a diligent student," continued Idris, observing the -numerous annotations. "Ah! what is this? 'The Fatal Skull,' written -across the title-page. On other pages are the initials 'F. S.,' -presumably standing for the same words, 'Fatal Skull.' See here, 'F. -S.,' and here again, 'F. S.'"</p> - -<p>"<i>The Fatal Skull!</i>" said Beatrice in wonderment. "What is meant by -that?"</p> - -<p>At Beatrice's request Idris translated some of the passages marked with -the letters "F. S.," but he failed to grasp their significance, there -being no connection whatever between a skull and the subject-matter of -the paragraph. Then, becoming conscious that it was an unchivalrous -proceeding to pry into an absent lady's book, he was on the point of -closing it, when his eye was caught by the following words written upon -the fly-leaf:—</p> - -<p class="center">Lorelie Rivière,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 3em;">16, Place Graslin,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Nantes.</span></p> - -<p>"16, Place Graslin?" murmured Idris in great surprise. "Heavens! It -was before the door of 16, Place Graslin that M. Duchesne was murdered -twenty-seven years ago!"</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER IV</span> <span class="smaller">THE SECRET OF THE RUNIC RING</span></h2> - -<p>The room that Godfrey Rothwell was accustomed to call his study was -a small and cosy apartment, well furnished with books; while, here -and there, were many ornaments betraying the taste of Beatrice, for -the room was jointly occupied by brother and sister. They loved to -be together, and while Godfrey studied his medical tomes, Beatrice's -fingers would be busy with sewing or embroidery.</p> - -<p>On this particular evening the presence of Idris caused both study -and needlework to be suspended. He had whetted the curiosity of his -entertainers by affirming that his coming to Ormsby had something to do -with the search for his father: he was, in fact, following a clue.</p> - -<p>His hearers pressed for enlightenment.</p> - -<p>"Let us sit around the fire, and I will explain my meaning."</p> - -<p>Drawing a comfortable arm-chair to the hearth Beatrice composed herself -for what she felt was about to be an interesting disclosure.</p> - -<p>"Among the papers," Idris began, "handed to me on my eighteenth -birthday by my mother's executors was a piece of vellum with runic -letters upon it. Though eleven years had passed I immediately -recognized these characters as being identical with those engraved on -the Ring of Odin. My mother had had the forethought to make a copy of -the inscription."</p> - -<p>Here Idris paused, reading a question in Beatrice's eyes.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Have you the transcript with you?" she asked. "It will be interesting -to look at, though we do not understand it."</p> - -<p>Idris produced from his pocketbook a scrap of vellum inscribed with -four lines of tiny runic letters.</p> - -<p>"And these are runes?" said Beatrice, looking at them attentively. -"They are very like the characters on the bugle that hangs within the -porch of Ravenhall."</p> - -<p>"Precisely," said Godfrey, "inasmuch as that is an old Norse -drinking-horn. But we are interrupting Idris' story."</p> - -<p>"The sight of this inscription naturally interested me," continued -Idris, "and I resolved to make an attempt at its decipherment, in the -hope that it might cast a ray of light upon the mystery of Duchesne's -murder, for I have always held to the belief that he was assassinated -for the sake of the altar-ring. With this view I procured the services -of a professor eminent for his knowledge of Norse antiquities, and -under his tuition I began the study of runology.</p> - -<p>"I was soon able to read all the letters of the inscription, and to -pronounce what I supposed were syllables and words: but syllables -and words would not yield any sense. And here and there came a -juxtaposition of consonants quite unpronounceable. To add to the -difficulty there were no spaces to show where one word ended and -another began. All the characters were equally close together and -seemed to form one long word. I did my best to break the inscription -up into its component parts, but failed. I could not distinguish one -familiar term. Either the language was not old Norse, or the professor -had taught me wrongly."</p> - -<p>"Why did you not lay the inscription before the professor," asked -Beatrice, "and get him to decipher it for you?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Because I did not wish any one to know the secret till I myself had -first ascertained its value. In the belief that it might be written in -some language other than old Norse I made incursions, not very deep, I -fear, into Danish, Frisian, Icelandic, and other northern dialects, but -failed to identify the inscription with any one of these tongues.</p> - -<p>"At last in despair I cast aside the caution I had hitherto exercised, -and placed the writing before my tutor; but, eminent runologist as he -was, he could extract no meaning from it.</p> - -<p>"Anxious to begin the search for my father, I parted from the Norse -professor; but yet, amid all my wanderings through Europe, I never -quite gave up the hope of being able to decipher the inscription.</p> - -<p>"Now, a few weeks ago, it occurred to me that the art of secret writing -may have been practised in Norse times just as in our own. Hitherto, -following modern usage, I had always read the inscription from left to -right: why not from right to left, as ancient Hebrew is read? I tried -the course, but it made me no wiser.</p> - -<p>"However, the cryptographic idea grew upon me, and was not to be shaken -off. As you perceive, it is a four-line inscription; I therefore read -downwards, combining the letters in the first line with those directly -beneath in the second, third, and fourth lines, but with no success. -I read upwards: disappointment was still my lot. I tried the plan of -omitting every alternate letter. I seemed as far off as ever."</p> - -<p>"But you succeeded in the end," said Beatrice.</p> - -<p>"Yes. By playing at random with the letters, I hit upon the key to the -decipherment. Observe this character," continued Idris, pointing to one -in the first line, shaped thus:—*. -"It is called <i>Hagl</i>, and corresponds to our H. As it is slightly -larger than the other letters,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> I had come to regard it as the initial -one in the series, and the sequel proved that I was correct. Beginning -with this <i>Hagl</i>, I omitted the three following letters, taking the -fifth which corresponds to our i."</p> - -<p>"That gives us H-i," said Beatrice.</p> - -<p>"Just so. Passing over the next three characters we come to the -equivalent of our l."</p> - -<p>"H-i-l," said Beatrice.</p> - -<p>"Proceeding in this way I add two more letters, and the result is a -woman's name, as common in Norse days as in our own."</p> - -<p>"You mean Hilda?"</p> - -<p>"Precisely. Hilda is the first word of the inscription. Light had -dawned at last. I had discovered the key to the writing, and it is -this: every fourth letter is to be treated as if in immediate sequence.</p> - -<p>"I instantly marked off the characters into sets of four. By taking out -the first letter in each quartette, and placing them in consecutive -order, I found the result was an intelligible sentence. By treating -the second letter of each quartette in like manner the sentence was -continued: and so with the third and fourth letters. There could be no -doubt about it. I had mastered the secret of Odin's Ring."</p> - -<p>"And what <i>is</i> the secret?" said Beatrice breathlessly.</p> - -<p>Idris could not avoid smiling at her eagerness. It was pleasant to have -so fair and interested a listener.</p> - -<p>"Impulsive Beatrice!" said Godfrey. "Idris may wish to keep the secret -to himself."</p> - -<p>"It will be very unfair, then, after having excited our curiosity," she -retorted.</p> - -<p>"You shall have the secret," said Idris; "though you will probably be -as much disappointed with it as I was. There is nothing very startling -in it. It does not relate to Odin and the gods of Valhalla, but to an -old Viking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> and a buried treasure. This is my rendering of the Norse -runes engraved on the broad perimeter of the ancient altar-ring."</p> - -<p>And here Idris drew forth a second piece of vellum, and read from it as -follows:—</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p><i>"'Hilda, the Alruna, to her son, Magnus of Deira, -greeting.—Within the lofty tomb of thy sire Orm, the Golden, wilt -thou find the treasure won by his high arm. The noontide shadow -of the oft-carried throne will be to thee for a sign. And may the -fires of the Asas guard thy heritage for thee.—Farewell."</i></p></blockquote> - -<p>"That," continued Idris, after a pause, "is the secret of Odin's -Ring: and though, as I have said, I was disappointed at first, yet -in course of time I began to think that the knowledge I had acquired -might furnish me with a clue—a very faint one, it is true,—towards -discovering my father."</p> - -<p>"I fail to see how," observed Godfrey.</p> - -<p>"In this way. Captain Rochefort, who was instrumental in effecting my -father's escape, possessed—so I have learned—a copy of this runic -inscription. Now, let us suppose that he and my father turned their -attention to its decipherment, and, like myself, succeeded. Let us -further grant that they had reasons for believing that the old Viking's -treasure still existed in the spot where it was originally placed. -Allowing these premises, what is the conclusion?"</p> - -<p>"That they would endeavour to possess themselves of this treasure."</p> - -<p>"Just so. They would try to find the Viking's tomb. Therefore, if I, -too, could hit upon the place——"</p> - -<p>"I understand. You might come upon some trace of your father."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> - -<p>"That is my meaning. I admit that it is a very slender thread upon -which to hang my hopes, but it is all that is left me. To find the -burial-place of Orm the Golden became my next object, a somewhat -difficult feat, seeing that he is a person who has altogether escaped -the historian's pen. However, I have succeeded."</p> - -<p>"What!" exclaimed Godfrey, incredulously. "You have discovered the -burial-place of this unknown Viking, who, granting the reality of his -existence, must have lived at least a thousand years ago?" And on -receiving a nod of affirmation, he asked, "How did you accomplish it? -'<i>Within the lofty tomb of thy sire Orm, the Golden</i>,'" continued he, -reading from Idris' translation of the inscription, "'<i>wilt thou find -the treasure, won by his high arm.</i>' There is nothing here to indicate -the site of this 'lofty tomb.'"</p> - -<p>"There is just a hint. Magnus, the Viking's son, is said to be 'of -Deira.' I infer, therefore, that the father Orm was likewise of Deira; -that in Deira he lived, in Deira he died, and in Deira he was buried. -'Look for the tomb in Deira,' became my watchword."</p> - -<p>"Deira," said Beatrice quickly. "Is not Deira the ancient name for this -part of the country?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," Godfrey answered, "and it is rather a wide area for our friend -Idris to explore, seeing that the name included all the country from -the Tyne to the Humber, and from the Pennines to the sea."</p> - -<p>"True," assented Idris; "but we may narrow the area of our search -considerably. These old Vikings had such love for the sea that they -were usually buried within sound of the breakers. We shall not err, -therefore, if we confine our attention to the sea-board only of Deira."</p> - -<p>"Even then you will have a coast-line of more than one hundred miles to -explore."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p> - -<p>"A glance at an ordnance map will help us to fix the site."</p> - -<p>"In what way?"</p> - -<p>"Thus. I take it that Orm the Viking, being master of much wealth, as -is clear from the words on the ring, would build for himself a dwelling -or castle by the sea. Around the abode of their chief the vassals and -dependants would fix theirs, thus forming the nucleus of a town. Now -what name would such a place be likely to take?"</p> - -<p>"My dear Idris," said Godfrey, protestingly, "how can I tell?—or you -either?" he added.</p> - -<p>"Well, like most town-names of Norse origin it would probably end in -the syllable <i>by</i>."</p> - -<p>"I will grant you that much—no more."</p> - -<p>"You cannot see at what I am aiming?"</p> - -<p>"I am completely in the dark."</p> - -<p>"Receive a ray of light, then. Don't you think that if this Orm built a -town, that town would bear his name?"</p> - -<p>"Surely you are not alluding to Ormsby?"</p> - -<p>"But I am. This town must have received its name from some one called -Orm, and it is my belief that this Orm was none other than the Viking -who figures on the runic ring. In the neighbourhood of this town, then, -we must look for the 'lofty tomb' of my Norse warrior. Now, four miles -to the north of us, there is, so local guide-books say, a lonely valley -called Ravensdale, containing——"</p> - -<p>"Containing," Beatrice broke in, excitedly, "containing a rounded, -artificial hillock, over fifty feet high, and known by the name of -Ormfell."</p> - -<p>"Ah! I see you know it," smiled Idris. "Yes, Ormfell, or Orm's Hill, is -the spot where I shall find the bones of the ancient Viking."</p> - -<p>"And do you really intend," asked Beatrice, "to bore<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> your way to the -heart of that hillock in order to see what it contains?"</p> - -<p>"Such is the purpose that has brought me to Ormsby, my object being to -discover whether this tumulus exhibits traces of having been recently -opened. It may be that in the sepulchral chamber within the hillock I -shall light upon something that will afford a clue towards discovering -my father. It may be a handkerchief merely, a discarded lantern, a -tool, a match-box, a button, or some other article trifling in itself, -but which a skilled detective will know how to employ in tracing the -man he wants. I may come even upon a pocketbook or a letter unwittingly -dropped—who can tell? Ormfell is my last hope. Fanciful as it may -appear to you, Godfrey, something seems to whisper to me that the -interior of that tumulus will furnish me with the means of lifting the -veil that has so long shrouded my father's fate."</p> - -<p>There was in Idris' manner a confidence which his hearers did not like -to quell by the expression of cold doubt, though they considered his -expectation fanciful in the extreme.</p> - -<p>"Do you intend to obtain the earl's sanction to make your excavations?" -asked Beatrice. "Ormfell stands on the Ravengar lands, you know."</p> - -<p>"Humph! if I should ask for permission I may meet with a refusal. In -such circumstances, therefore, I feel myself justified in committing a -bold trespass."</p> - -<p>"Well, if you should be caught, Mr. Breakspear," said Beatrice with a -blush, "I will intercede for you with Lord Ormsby, for I believe I am -rather a favourite of his."</p> - -<p>Idris tendered her his thanks. He had almost forgotten that the pretty -maiden sitting beside him might one day be the inheritrix of Ravenhall, -and owner of those very lands the proprietary rights of which he was -preparing to set at naught.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p> - -<p>"But," continued Beatrice, "if you are not going to apply for the -earl's permission, how do you intend to escape observation?"</p> - -<p>"By conducting my operations in the dead of night."</p> - -<p>"Break into a Viking's tomb in the dead of night! What a weird idea!"</p> - -<p>"I shall not be the first who has so acted, Miss Ravengar."</p> - -<p>"You will not object to my help, I presume?" Godfrey remarked.</p> - -<p>"On the contrary, I shall be glad of it."</p> - -<p>"I am half-disposed to join in this romantic business myself," said -Beatrice with a smile. "How interesting if you should discover the -treasure!"</p> - -<p>"We are not very likely to discover treasure that was secreted a -thousand years ago," commented Godfrey.</p> - -<p>"And yet," said Idris, "many sepulchral barrows, opened in our day, are -found to contain treasure—coins, drinking-horns, armour, and the like."</p> - -<p>"True: but in this case you forget that the words on the runic ring -were an express invitation to Orm's son—what was his name, Magnus?—to -possess himself of the treasure. He would not leave much for posterity -to glean."</p> - -<p>"Yes, if he received his mother's ring; but how if it miscarried? Hilda -evidently lived far away from her son Magnus, else why should she have -engraved her communication on metal, when she could more easily have -delivered it <i>vivâ voce</i> and face to face? The messenger entrusted with -the ring may have gone astray. Travelling was a difficult matter in -Norse times, and many perils beset the wayfarer, especially a wayfarer -who carried anything worth stealing. Or consider this point, that -though Magnus was capable of understanding the runic riddle—otherwise -his mother would not have adopted such a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> mode of communication—yet -it does not follow that his son or successor was equally skilled. -Supposing, then, that Magnus was dead when the messenger arrived with -the ring, there may have been no one in Deira capable of interpreting -the message. The ring might thus retain its secret, and the hillock its -treasure, down to our own time."</p> - -<p>"Possible, but not probable," smiled Godfrey.</p> - -<p>Beatrice's eyes rested upon the vellum containing Idris' translation of -the runic inscription.</p> - -<p>"'<i>The fires of the Asas guard thy heritage for thee!</i>'" she read. -"What does that mean?"</p> - -<p>"The Asas were the old Norse gods, who were supposed to dart forth -flames upon any one venturing to disturb the sleep of the dead."</p> - -<p>"Then beware, Mr. Breakspear," she said playfully, "for you are going -the very way to evoke their wrath. '<i>The noontide shadow of the -oft-carried throne will be to thee for a sign.</i>' How do you interpret -that?"</p> - -<p>"I wish I could answer you, Miss Ravengar. That sentence is an enigma -I've never been able to solve. It is my intention to pay a visit to -Ormfell at noon to-morrow, when an inspection of the hillock may -perhaps throw some light on the matter."</p> - -<p>Soon afterwards Beatrice retired for the night, but it was a long time -before sleep came to her. She lay awake, thinking of Idris, and of the -passionate look that came into his eyes at the sight of the beautiful -Lorelie Rivière.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER V</span> <span class="smaller">"THE SHADOW OF THE OFT-CARRIED THRONE"</span></h2> - -<p>Four miles to the north of Ormsby lies the valley of Ravensdale, -extending due east and west, with sides steep and wall-like.</p> - -<p>The eastern end opens out upon the sea-beach, and here the width of -the valley is greatest, the distance across being about half a mile. -Farther inland the breadth contracts, and the sides approach each other -till they meet in a narrow leafy gorge, whence issues the slender, -silvery Ravensbec.</p> - -<p>The valley contains no human habitation. The only sounds that disturb -the stillness are the melancholy murmur of the sea, and the occasional -tinkling of sheep-bells.</p> - -<p>In the middle of the dale, and distant a few hundred yards from the -beach, rises the eminence that for centuries has borne the name of -Ormfell, an eminence circular at the base, about fifty feet in height, -and covered with green turf.</p> - -<p>Upon this hillock Idris was now gazing with deep interest.</p> - -<p>It was a beautiful summer morning, and with Beatrice for his companion -he had come to take a view of the tumulus, preliminary to the task of -breaking into it at night.</p> - -<p>"We want no geologist," he remarked, "to tell us that this is an -artificial elevation. Nature never carved out this pyramid; it has been -raised by the hand of man. This is the 'lofty tomb' spoken of on the -runic ring.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> Within the heart of this tumulus we shall find all that -remains of old Orm the Viking."</p> - -<p>Beatrice shared fully in his enthusiasm. She had seen the mound many a -time, but now the words on the runic ring had invested the spot with a -new and mysterious charm.</p> - -<p>"Orm's warriors were men with a taste for the picturesque," she said. -"They could not have chosen a prettier place for the grave of their -hero."</p> - -<p>"Ay, close to the sea, that he doubtless loved well, as became a Norse -Viking. And here for ages he has remained in solitary glory, with the -surge forever murmuring his requiem."</p> - -<p>"This is certainly a tremendous mass of earth to pile over one poor -mortal," said Beatrice, contemplating the mound.</p> - -<p>"Every vassal was supposed to contribute one helmetful of soil to the -grave of his chieftain."</p> - -<p>"Judged by that test Orm must have had a pretty numerous following," -said Beatrice.</p> - -<p>"Or else each follower contributed more than the orthodox helmetful. -O, they could toil as well as fight, these old Norsemen. They were not -afraid of work."</p> - -<p>"May the old Norse blood in us never die out, then!"</p> - -<p>"Amen to that! But I see an upright stone crowning the apex of our -fell. Let us examine it. There may be runes upon it."</p> - -<p>Idris extended his hand to Beatrice and assisted her up the side of -the mound. Arrived at the summit he closely inspected the stone, which -was a six-sided pillar, about four feet in height, black in colour, -relieved here and there by curious red convolutions.</p> - -<p>"So far as I can see," he said, "this pillar does not betray any mark -of a tool. Its hexagonal shape, then, is due to nature. The stone is -basalt, which often assumes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> a six-sided form. These red spirals are -apparently sandstone. It is evident that the mass of basalt, of which -this pillar is a fragment, was forced upwards in an igneous liquid -state through a bed of sandstone, taking up some of the latter in its -passage. Hence these red convoluted bands."</p> - -<p>"I have heard that there is only one place in Europe where basalt -of this character is to be found," said Beatrice, "and that is in a -certain valley of the Crimea."</p> - -<p>"It may be so. The old Norse people are said by some historians to -have been of Scythian origin, and to have migrated from the region of -the Crimea. Perhaps they carried this piece of basalt with them. It -may have been a <i>baitulion</i>, or holy stone; in fact," continued Idris, -as he removed some moss from the foot of the pillar, "there can be -no doubt about it. Look on this side, and you will see why a sacred -character was attributed to it. Tell me, Miss Ravengar, what does this -red streak resemble?"</p> - -<p>"A curved sword!" cried Beatrice, in wonderment. "Why have I never -noticed it before? A curved sword, with blade, hilt, and cross-guard, -as perfect as if drawn by human hand."</p> - -<p>"Just so. And history says that the ancient Scythians worshipped a -scimitar—an appropriate deity for a barbaric and warlike race. This -hexagon, stamped with the image of their god, would be holy in their -eyes. It would be their altar-stone, and a necessary companion in all -their migrations."</p> - -<p>Beatrice, not doubting the truth of Idris' theory, gazed with a feeling -almost akin to awe upon the mysterious stone, which the superstition -of a far-off age had elevated to the rank of deity. Eternity seemed -to be its attribute. In its presence she and Idris were but as the -quickly-evaporating dew; long after their bodies should have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> crumbled -to dust this altar would remain. A silent contemporary of the rise -and fall of past empires, it would survive the rise and fall of many -to come. If ever stone was eloquent on the evanescence of all things -human, surely this stone was!</p> - -<p>Such were Beatrice's thoughts, while Idris, more prosaic, was on his -knees, removing the earth from the foot of the pillar, and scraping the -surface of the stone with his penknife in the hope of finding runic -letters engraved upon it: but in this he met with disappointment; each -face of the hexagon was free from inscription.</p> - -<p>"I was hoping," he said, rising to his feet, "to come upon some -epitaph, such as, '<i>I, Magnus, raise this stone to the memory of my -sire, Orm</i>', which would give me proof that I am on the right track, -since, after all, my opinion that this is the tomb of the Golden Viking -is purely conjectural."</p> - -<p>They descended to level ground again, and Idris proceeded to walk -slowly around the base of the hillock, endeavouring to take no more -than a foot at each step.</p> - -<p>"The circumference is, roughly speaking, about one hundred and fifty -feet," he remarked, when he had completed the circuit. "The diameter, -therefore, will be about fifty, and the centre about twenty-five feet -off."</p> - -<p>"If you have that distance, or nearly that distance, of solid earth to -bore through, you have a hard task," said Beatrice.</p> - -<p>"My work will be of a much lighter nature, I trust. If this tumulus -has been constructed like the generality of its kind, there should be -a stone chamber in the centre with a stone passage leading to it from -the side of the mound. Earth was piled over the mouth of the passage, -but marks, usually taking the shape of two upright stones, were left to -indicate the entrance."</p> - -<p>"What point of the compass did the Norsemen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> favour when constructing -the entrance-passage of their tumuli?"</p> - -<p>"The point of ingress usually faced the east."</p> - -<p>"This is the easternmost point, nearest the sea," said Beatrice, moving -onward a few steps; and full of their enterprise, she cried, "Let us -try to find the guide-stones."</p> - -<p>They carefully surveyed the eastern curve of the base, Beatrice probing -with the point of her sunshade, and Idris with the ferule of his -walking-stick, among the long grass and bracken that grew in profusion -at the foot of the hillock. Their search, however, was without result.</p> - -<p>"I am at fault, it seems," said Idris, "or, it may be, the rain of -centuries has washed down so much earth from the side of the mound that -the guide-stones at its foot have become buried. We can do nothing -without proper tools."</p> - -<p>"Let us explore all round," suggested Beatrice, the spirit of adventure -growing upon her.</p> - -<p>They examined the entire circuit of the base, and, when that -investigation was over, were no wiser than when they had begun.</p> - -<p>Beatrice seated herself on a grassy bank facing the tumulus, and Idris -took his place beside her.</p> - -<p>"This will never do," he muttered, ruefully contemplating the hillock. -"I <i>must</i> discover the mouth of the passage. If I begin to bore at any -other point I might indeed reach the wall of the central chamber, but I -should be on the outside, and it would be difficult, if not impossible, -to make a way through the masonry. Besides, as I cannot admit the -coöperation of any one but Godfrey, tunnelling through twenty feet of -earth is a task that will take several nights, not to speak of the -impossibility of concealing our work in the daytime."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Or the risk of your tunnel falling upon you, in which case," added -Beatrice, demurely, "you would have <i>much ground</i> for complaint."</p> - -<p>"Wicked Miss Ravengar! Would you jest at my misfortunes? I will defeat -your hopes by finding the legitimate entrance."</p> - -<p>"And how do you propose to find it?"</p> - -<p>"Well, I conceive that the entrance is shaped like an ordinary doorway, -that is to say, it consists of two upright stones a little distance -apart, with a third resting horizontally upon them. I shall have to -move round the base of the hillock with an iron implement, striking -into the soil till I meet with stone. A little judicious probing will -soon tell me whether it be a boulder, or one of the entrance-columns. -If a boulder merely, I shall have to pass on, repeating my experiment."</p> - -<p>"But if these entrance-columns stand well within the hillock you may go -all round without lighting upon them."</p> - -<p>"In that case I shall have to begin again, and strike deeper."</p> - -<p>"Even then you may fail. You are arguing on the supposition that the -mouth of the passage must be on a level with the base of the hillock, -whereas it may be higher, six, nine, or twelve feet above level ground. -And," pursued Beatrice, "if you conduct your operations in the manner -you describe, it will be difficult to keep your work secret. The -disturbed state of the soil, and the uprooting of the herbage, will -tell a tale to the earl's bailiffs."</p> - -<p>"Humph! these are difficulties which call for a cheroot," replied -Idris. "You have no objection, Miss Ravengar? Thank you," he continued, -lighting it. "Now to put on my thinking-cap."</p> - -<p>Reclining upon the grass he puffed thoughtfully at his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> cheroot, -and gazed at the green mound that seemed to be quietly mocking his -endeavours.</p> - -<p>"Ormfell appears determined to keep its secret," said Beatrice. "We -want Belzoni here."</p> - -<p>"Belzoni? 'I thank thee, Jew,'—or shall I say Jewess?—'for teaching -me that word.' Shall an Italian find his way to the heart of the great -stone pyramid, while I, an Englishman, am to be defeated by a paltry -cone of earth, fifty feet only in diameter? Never!" he exclaimed, -theatrically. "How," he continued, knitting his brows in perplexity, -"how were the Norsemen themselves enabled to remember where the point -of ingress lay? They must surely have left some mark to indicate it."</p> - -<p>For the twentieth time that morning Idris murmured the inscription on -the runic ring.</p> - -<p>"'<i>Within the lofty tomb of thy sire, Orm the Golden, wilt thou -find the treasure won by his high arm. The noontide shadow of the -oft-carried throne will be to thee for a sign.</i>' How long am I to be -baffled by this dark oracle? What is meant by the 'oft-carried throne'?"</p> - -<p>The light of understanding suddenly leaped into Beatrice's eyes, and -she pointed excitedly to the piece of basalt crowning the summit.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Breakspear, are not the words 'oft-carried' very applicable to -that stone, if it has really been brought over sea and land from the -Crimea? Is not that the 'throne' alluded to?"</p> - -<p>The cheroot dropped from Idris' lips, and he sprang to his feet with a -cry of exultation.</p> - -<p>"By heaven! Miss Ravengar, you are right. 'Oft-carried throne?' Yes, -that must be it! As the holy <i>baitulion</i> of a tribe, marked with the -image of their deity, it would doubtless be the stone on which the new -chief would stand when invested with kingly rule. That<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> piece of basalt -was a kind of <i>Lia Fail</i>, like the coronation-stone at Westminster."</p> - -<p>"Ormfell is becoming more interesting than ever," said Beatrice, her -eyes sparkling with pleasure at having solved a problem that had -perplexed Idris so long. "We have discovered the oft-carried throne, -and the oft-carried throne is to be to us for a sign. A sign of what?"</p> - -<p>"Indicative of the entrance, I presume, otherwise there would be no -reason for engraving the fact on the ring."</p> - -<p>"Do the words mean that the stone stands over the entrance itself? If -we remove it, shall we discover the mouth of a shaft?"</p> - -<p>"Scarcely, I think: for, if so, the stone would be a sign at all hours -of the twenty-four, whereas the language of the ring restricts its -significance to the noontide hour only."</p> - -<p>"It wants an hour yet to noon," said Beatrice, referring to her watch.</p> - -<p>"Good! We will wait till then. I have formed my opinion. Mark my words, -Miss Ravengar, we shall find that the entrance is on the northern side. -The noontide hour will show whether I am right."</p> - -<p>And Idris, resuming his fallen cheroot, relighted it, and reclining -once more upon the grassy bank, waited for the time to pass, while -Beatrice sat beside him in a state of pleasing suspense.</p> - -<p>"Now if my grandfather were here," she remarked, "he might be able to -tell us whether or not Ormfell contains the treasure, without taking -the trouble to break into the tumulus."</p> - -<p>"Then your grandfather must have been a remarkably clever fellow."</p> - -<p>"He was. By simply walking barefoot over the ground he was able to tell -whether metals lay below, and not only that, but the depth even at -which they lay. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> has been known to point out and trace accurately -the course of water, veins of metal, coal-measures, and the like."</p> - -<p>"I have heard of similar feats performed by miners of the Hartz -Mountains," said Idris, "but have always regarded such stories as -apocryphal. Had your grandfather any theory to account for his -marvellous power?"</p> - -<p>"His idea was that the proximity of metals imparted a peculiar -sensation to the soles of his feet, the intensity of the impression -being a measure of their nearness to the surface. His belief was that -metals cast off subtle exhalations capable of being detected by a -highly magnetic organism, which his undoubtedly was."</p> - -<p>"There may be something in that theory. There are persons who cannot -enter the Mint without fainting."</p> - -<p>"He always maintained," Beatrice went on, "that this valley of -Ravensdale was the centre of a rich coalfield."</p> - -<p>"Your grandfather's power of divining for metals has not descended to -you and Godfrey, I presume?"</p> - -<p>"I sometimes think it has—in a slight degree. We still keep his -walking-stick cut from the witch-hazel. This stick would turn visibly -in his hands at the proximity of metals; it has sometimes turned in -Godfrey's hands, and more than once in mine."</p> - -<p>"Strange! Well, if this stick is capable of being affected by metals -let Godfrey by all means bring it with him to-night," said Idris, more -in jest than in earnest. "The treasures of the Viking, supposing them -to be still within the hillock, may lie concealed under the floor of -the chamber, and we shall be at a loss to know at what point to dig for -them."</p> - -<p>The minutes moved tardily on, and as the meridian hour approached, -Beatrice said:—</p> - -<p>"Have you noticed how the shadow cast by the stone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> creeps slowly along -over the face of the ground? This hillock could easily be turned into a -giant sun-dial."</p> - -<p>"You echo my thoughts, Miss Ravengar. And it seems to me that this -shadow will furnish us with the clue we want."</p> - -<p>"You mean that the shadow of the stone will fall on the very spot where -the entrance is?"</p> - -<p>"Not quite: for in that case the shadow would be an uncertain guide, -varying with the sun's altitude at the different seasons: and, besides, -you will notice that the shadow is many yards from the foot of the -tumulus. It is not probable that the secret entrance lies so far off. -No: my idea is this. Connect the oft-carried throne and its shadow with -an ideal line, and near the point where this line cuts the base of the -hillock will be found the mouth of the passage. It is the noontide hour -now," continued Idris, rising. "We will put a little pile of stones -to mark the spot where the apex of the shadow falls—so," he added, -suiting the action to the word. "Now all we have to do is to walk from -this point to the foot of the hillock, keeping in a bee-line with that -piece of basalt on the summit, and, unless I err, we shall hit upon the -entrance."</p> - -<p>Speaking thus, Idris began his experiment. When he had come to the foot -of the hillock, Beatrice observed with surprise that the thick, heavy -walking-stick carried by him was in reality the receptacle for a long -and stout sword. This weapon he pushed into the side of the hillock at -the spot touched by the imaginary line.</p> - -<p>After a series of probings, begun on a level with the ground and -continued in an upward direction, Idris paused with a gleam of -excitement on his face. Changing the direction, he resumed his probing, -moving horizontally to the right and stopping again. Then he continued -the movement, this time coming downward, so that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> the course of his -sword had described three sides of a rectangle.</p> - -<p>"Miss Ravengar," he cried, in a voice of emotion, "I have found the -entrance! As I live, I have found it! Here, hidden within the soil, -are two stone blocks a little distance apart, with a third resting -crosswise upon them, the three forming a kind of doorway. We have only -to remove the earth overlying them, and we shall find a hollow passage -beyond."</p> - -<p>Beatrice's cheek coloured with pleasure as Idris continued:—</p> - -<p>"Miss Ravengar, you have proved yourself a valuable auxiliary. But for -your explanation I might still be puzzling my mind as to the meaning of -'the oft-carried throne.' I offer you a somewhat problematic reward. -Whatever spoil is found within shall be divided equally between us."</p> - -<p>"<i>Merci!</i> But are you not promising too much? Is not treasure-trove the -property of the Crown?"</p> - -<p>"Provided that the Crown hears of the discovery."</p> - -<p>"Fie, Mr. Breakspear! you would corrupt my honesty."</p> - -<p>"I can depart now with a hopeful heart for to-night's work. I shall -have but little difficulty in penetrating to the interior of the -hillock. We have no need to mark the entrance. Nature has already done -it for us."</p> - -<p>He pointed to a cluster of white flowers growing upon the side of the -hillock. Beatrice had no sooner set eyes upon them than an expression -of surprise stole over her face.</p> - -<p>"Do you know the name of this flower?" she said. "It is the vernal -mandrake."</p> - -<p>"What? The mandragora of the ancients?—the plant that played so potent -a factor in classic witchcraft?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p> - -<p>"The same."</p> - -<p>Idris gazed with considerable interest upon the pale mysterious plant -around which so many weird superstitions have gathered.</p> - -<p>"And a curious circumstance it is," continued Beatrice, who was -somewhat of a botanist, "that it should be growing here."</p> - -<p>"Why so?"</p> - -<p>"Because it is a plant requiring cultivation. It does not grow wild, at -least not in this country."</p> - -<p>"Then your inference is that it has been planted here by human agency?"</p> - -<p>"Sown is perhaps a better word than planted. It certainly did not -spring up spontaneously from the soil."</p> - -<p>"Hum! This raises a curious question. For what purpose was it sown? Is -some one carrying on botanic experiments here? Or shall we say that my -projected visit to the interior of the tumulus has been forestalled, -and my unknown forerunner, desirous of renewing his visit at an early -date, has left these tokens here to mark the point of entrance, -probably having had the same difficulty as ourselves in discovering it? -What simpler plan could he adopt than just to sprinkle here a few seeds -of the white-flowering mandrake?"</p> - -<p>Beatrice had nothing to say either for or against this last theory, -and, after puzzling themselves in vain to account for the presence of -the mandrake, they set off for Ormsby.</p> - -<p>On their way they passed a small workshop belonging to the -cemetery-mason. The man himself was standing at the door, and Beatrice -stopped to exchange a few civilities with him.</p> - -<p>"Well, Robin, how is the world using you?" she asked pleasantly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Rather badly of late. The people of Ormsby seem to live longer than -they used to do."</p> - -<p>"I am afraid my brother is partly responsible for that," said Beatrice -demurely. "It is his business to oppose yours, you see."</p> - -<p>"No one seems to want a tombstone nowadays," continued the man -gloomily. "However, I had a little work put in my way yesterday by -Mademoiselle Rivière."</p> - -<p>"Mademoiselle Rivière!" echoed Beatrice in surprise. "What order has -<i>she</i> given you?"</p> - -<p>"You have perhaps heard that more than twenty years ago an unknown -vessel was wrecked in Ormsby Race. Four bodies only were washed -ashore, and these were buried in a corner of St. Oswald's churchyard. -Mademoiselle Rivière has obtained permission of the Rector to place a -marble cross over their grave."</p> - -<p>"Did she say why she takes such an interest in these drowned men?" -asked Beatrice.</p> - -<p>"Well, as to that I was a little bit curious myself, and so I could not -help putting a question or two. Mademoiselle said she had good reason -for believing that the lost vessel was French: and being French herself -she felt a desire to honour their grave. If you will step inside, I -will show you what she has chosen."</p> - -<p>Idris, who felt a strange interest in Mademoiselle Rivière, required no -second bidding, and with Beatrice entered the workshop, where the mason -exhibited with manifest pride a cross of Sicilian marble, standing on a -base of the same material. This pedestal was wrought in the shape of a -rock, and decorated with seaweed and an anchor.</p> - -<p>"What is the epitaph to be?" asked Idris, after some words -complimentary to the mason's skill.</p> - -<p>The man produced a paper upon which was written,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> in the same delicate, -flowing penmanship that had adorned the margin of the Lombard -historian, the following words:—</p> - -<p class="center">"<span class="smcap">Sacred</span><br /><br /> -<span class="smcap">To the Memory<br />of<br />The Drowned.</span><br /><br /> -<span class="smcap">October 13th, 1876.</span><br /><br />'<i>He that is without sin, let him first<br /> -cast the stone.</i>'"</p> - -<p>Idris laid down the paper, and, after a few more words with the mason, -the two went on their way again.</p> - -<p>"Mademoiselle Rivière must know something more about those shipwrecked -men than that they were Frenchmen merely," observed Idris. "If the -verse cited is to have any application at all, it must mean that the -drowned men were guilty of—I know not what, but something upon which -the world would not look leniently. Hence, perhaps, the absence of -their names from the epitaph."</p> - -<p>"You think she knows their names?"</p> - -<p>"Without doubt. Why should a lady erect a costly memorial over the -grave of men of whom she knows nothing? If I may venture a conjecture I -should say that she must be related to one of them. 'He that is without -sin, let him first cast the stone.' I have often thought that that -verse might very well form a part of my father's epitaph."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER VI</span> <span class="smaller">"THE FIRES OF THE ASAS!"</span></h2> - -<p>Midnight was chiming from a distant church-tower as Idris and Godfrey -stood on the edge of the upland that overlooked the valley of -Ravensdale.</p> - -<p>They had left Wave Crest at eleven o'clock, and following a circuitous -route, and favoured by the late hour, had succeeded in reaching their -destination without attracting notice.</p> - -<p>Beatrice had begged hard to accompany them, but this Godfrey would -not permit. So she watched them from the garden-gate till they were -out of sight, and then returned indoors to alarm herself by reading -the adventures of Belzoni in the Great Pyramid, finding some sort of -affinity between the expedition of Idris and that of the enterprizing -Paduan.</p> - -<p>The night was lovely and cloudless, with a full moon shining from a sky -of darkest blue.</p> - -<p>Shimmering white in the hallowed radiance arose the lofty tomb of the -long-buried Viking, and as the two friends made their way towards it -the character of the undertaking began to oppress the mind of Godfrey -with various strange fancies. What the interior of the hillock would -reveal he could not tell; but he had forebodings of something grim -and ghostly. Though it was of his own free will that he came, yet -now, brought close to the intended task, he shrank from it, and found -himself yielding to a spirit of fear.</p> - -<p>He could not but admire the unconcern of his <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>companion, who strode -gallantly forward, humming the chorus of a hunting-song.</p> - -<p>"Confound yon bright moon!" muttered Idris. "If any of the coast-guard -should stroll this way, we are certain to be seen."</p> - -<p>Arrived at the northernmost point of the tumulus, he flung down the -sack that he had carried containing the implements necessary for -excavation, and turning his eyes upon the side of the hillock began to -look about for the white-flowering mandrake that betokened the point of -ingress.</p> - -<p>He glanced quickly from right to left, but, to his surprise, the plant -was nowhere to be seen.</p> - -<p>"Here's a mystery! What has become of the mandrake?—No matter: there's -the pile of pebbles I set up on the spot where the shadow of the stone -fell. I have but to repeat my former experiment."</p> - -<p>Making his way to the little heap Idris faced about, and then began to -walk towards the hillock, keeping in a direct line with the stone upon -its apex.</p> - -<p>On reaching the base of the tumulus he paused and remained stationary, -with his back to Godfrey, and his gaze riveted on the side of the -mound. There was something so peculiar in the rigidity of his attitude, -and in his long-continued silence, that Godfrey's heart quickened with -an unknown fear, a fear that deepened, when Idris, with a scared face -turned slowly round, and, as if the power of speech had left him, -beckoned with his finger for the surgeon to come forward.</p> - -<p>"Look there!" he said in a hoarse voice, clutching Godfrey with one -hand, and pointing with the other. "Tell me whether I see aright. -What's that?"</p> - -<p>And there, protruding from the side of the hillock in the place where -the mandrake had grown, was—a human hand!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p> - -<p>A human hand, rising from the earth, motionless and rigid, the crooked -fingers seeming to tell of the agony of a death by suffocation.</p> - -<p>Some one, since the morning, had been trying to force a way through -the soil at the entrance of the passage, and had lost his life in the -attempt.</p> - -<p>Such was Idris' first thought. A closer inspection, however, showed -that the event had not happened that day. The nails had fallen from the -fingers, and there was, besides, a decayed, vegetable look about the -hand, differing altogether from the aspect presented by the skin of the -newly-dead. How Idris came to overlook it during his morning visit was -a mystery, since the hand must have been in its present position for -several days, if not for several weeks. Its sudden exposure was perhaps -due to the afternoon storm, which had washed away a portion of the soil.</p> - -<p>To endeavour to ascertain the identity of the victim by pulling at -the withered hand, and thus bringing the decayed form to view, was an -act that not only Idris shrank from, but even Godfrey, the surgeon, -familiar with the <i>disjecta membra</i> of the dissecting room.</p> - -<p>Then Idris, bending forward to examine the hand more closely, gave vent -to a peal of laughter.</p> - -<p>"Brave heroes we are to be frightened by a plant! It is nothing but the -root of the mandrake."</p> - -<p>Godfrey drew a breath of relief, as he assured himself by a nearer view -that what he had taken for a human hand was indeed the withered root of -the mandrake, so apt to assume strange and unaccountable shapes.</p> - -<p>Yet, to save his life, he durst not put forth his hand to touch it.</p> - -<p>If such were the terrors guarding the exterior of the tomb, what might -he not expect to find in the interior?</p> - -<p>"Now, Godfrey, our silly fright being over, to work!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> I will dig while -you watch. Take a seat on this boulder here, and if you should see -anybody coming, give the word and I will suspend operations for a -while. There cannot be more than five or six feet of earth to knock -away, and then the passage will be open to our view. The work ought not -to take long."</p> - -<p>Godfrey did as desired, and Idris flung off ulster, coat, and vest. -Rolling his shirt-sleeves above the elbow, he drew the tools from the -sack and selected a spade.</p> - -<p>"Now to disturb the repose of old Orm the Golden!" he cried, excitement -sparkling from his eyes. "Now to evoke the fires of the Asas!"</p> - -<p>The sickly, withered mandrake-root, with its resemblance to a human -hand, fronted him, and as if in contempt of his former fears, he -drove the edge of the spade clean through the stalk. The separated -parts seemed to quiver and writhe in a manner extremely suggestive of -animal-life.</p> - -<p>A thrill of terror shot through his frame, and, spade in hand, he -paused, staring at the root; for, simultaneously with its dissection, -there came a sound, bearing resemblance to a plaintive human cry.</p> - -<p>It was not the creation of his fancy, since Godfrey too had heard it.</p> - -<p>"In the name of all that's holy what was that?" he asked, starting up -from the stone upon which he had been sitting.</p> - -<p>"That is what I should like to know," said Idris, trying to look -unconcerned. "It came—or seemed to come—from this plant here. The -poet speaks of:—</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>'Shrieks like mandrakes torn from the ground!'</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>but I never thought to hear them in my own person."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p> - -<p>He toyed idly with the spade, desirous, yet almost afraid, of making a -second stroke.</p> - -<p>In all his life Godfrey had never been so much alarmed as he was at -that moment.</p> - -<p>"Idris, let us leave this business—at least, for to-night."</p> - -<p>His words acted as a stimulus to the other's courage.</p> - -<p>"Leave it? Never! till I have forced my way to the heart of this -hillock, and wrested the secret from it. On the very point of discovery -must we turn back, frightened by a sound, the cry, probably, of some -night-bird? We are not the first to break into a Norse barrow at -midnight. Shall we be outdone in enterprise by others? No: though the -dead Viking rise up, sword in hand, to repel me, yet will I go on."</p> - -<p>And with this Idris lifted the spade, and attacked the side of the -hillock, savagely cutting the mandrake root to fragments, half -expecting to hear the weird cry again. But the sound, whatever its -origin, was not repeated.</p> - -<p>Finding the earth to be hard conglomerate, and not easily susceptible -to impressions from the spade, Idris laid that tool aside, and, fitting -the wooden shaft of a pickaxe into its iron head, proceeded to reduce -the conglomerate to a crumble, which he then tossed aside with the -spade, labouring alternately with the two implements.</p> - -<p>No word escaped him: he was too much interested in the work to waste -his breath in words. His efforts soon unearthed two large unhewn blocks -of stone standing a little distance apart.</p> - -<p>Fired to fresh energy by this sight, a proof that he was working in the -right direction, he continued his excavations between the two blocks. -After the lapse of a few minutes he paused, and thrust his arm up to -the shoulder through an aperture appearing in the conglomerate.</p> - -<p>"<i>Io triumphe!</i>" he exclaimed. "Empty space behind<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> this. A little more -labour, and we shall be able to crawl into the passage beyond."</p> - -<p>Declining Godfrey's repeated offers of assistance, Idris resumed his -work enthusiastically, dealing stroke after stroke upon the wall of -earth that barred his way. Down came the black soil with a rush, as if -glad to meet free air after an imprisonment of centuries. Wider and -wider grew the aperture, revealing an open space beyond: and, at last, -flinging down his tools, Idris declared that the way was now open to -the interior.</p> - -<p>"Where's the lantern, Godfrey?"</p> - -<p>The surgeon was already fumbling about in the sack. With an exclamation -of dismay he rose to his feet and gave it a shake, but nothing came -forth.</p> - -<p>"By heaven! Godfrey, don't say that we have left the lantern behind!"</p> - -<p>"That is just what we have done."</p> - -<p>"At least, the match-box is there."</p> - -<p>"No: that, too, is a minus article."</p> - -<p>Idris breathed a malediction. As he himself had attended to the putting -up of their paraphernalia, the omission was his own, and no blame -attached to Godfrey.</p> - -<p>The neglect seemed irremediable. It was out of the question to return -to Ormsby for the lantern, and yet, without a light, it would be -hazardous to grope their way through darkness to the interior of the -hillock. To be so near the point of discovery, and yet so far off, was -maddening.</p> - -<p>"I shall not return without some attempt at exploration," cried Idris. -"We'll have to grope about in the dark and try what we can discover in -that way."</p> - -<p>Godfrey was almost ready to drop at this weird suggestion.</p> - -<p>"Stay a moment!" continued Idris, stooping over his vest, and feeling -in the pockets, "surely I have some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> matches here. Yes," he added, with -a cry of delight, drawing forth a metallic box. "Here they are! How -many? Three, as I live! Three only! Humph! we shall have to economize -our slender resources. We must feel our way along the passage. I'll -walk a few steps ahead of you, so that if any hurt should befall me, -take warning yourself, and help me if you can. We'll not strike these -vestas till we are fairly within the central chamber. We may learn -something from their glimmer."</p> - -<p>Idris, having resumed his coat and vest, was on the point of leading -the way, when he suddenly became impressed with the idea that there -might be some hidden danger within the hillock, and for Beatrice's sake -it was not right that Godfrey should be drawn into it.</p> - -<p>But the surgeon, though indeed reluctant to go forward, was -nevertheless unwilling to be considered a coward, and demurred to the -suggestion that he should remain at the entrance till Idris had first -paid a visit to the interior.</p> - -<p>"Seriously speaking," said Idris, "I do not see what danger there can -be, but still there <i>is</i> the possibility of it, and I ought to meet it -alone. Beatrice would never forgive me if harm should befall you. Stay -here till I have made a brief exploration."</p> - -<p>While speaking he caught sight of the walking-stick with which -Godfrey's grandfather had been accustomed to perform his feats of -divination. It was curiously shaped, carved so as to represent a -serpent twining round a wand, the head of the reptile being set with -two green, glittering stones in imitation of eyes.</p> - -<p>"Pass me your ancestral <i>caduceus</i>," he said. "It will serve to guide -my steps. I wish these eyes were lamps!"</p> - -<p>Then, waving the surgeon back, he stepped within the dark hole, which -seemed, in Godfrey's imagination, to gape like the mouth of a great -dragon about to swallow its victim.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p> - -<p>Idris' sensations on entering the passage were far from agreeable. -Though the moonlight without was brilliantly white, not a ray of it -found entrance to the passage; the air within was black and terrible, -and as solid-looking as if formed of ebony.</p> - -<p>His progress was slow and tedious, from the necessity imposed upon -him of halting at each step to feel his way. Before lifting his foot -he carefully explored the ground in front of him with the stick, and -he touched in turn the sides of the passage as well as the roof. The -corridor, judged by this test, was about seven feet in height and four -in width. Roof, walls, and flooring were composed apparently of solid -masonry.</p> - -<p>After taking about twenty paces Idris, extending the rod on each side -of him, found that it touched nothing. The passage had opened out into -something wider.</p> - -<p>He judged that he had entered the mortuary chamber, and was now -standing in the presence of the dead.</p> - -<p>What awesome sight did the black darkness hide?</p> - -<p>For all he knew to the contrary, not one, but many Vikings might be -entombed here, disposed at different points of the chamber, their -bodies preserved from decay by embalming. Like the lost and frozen dead -men, seen sometimes by navigators in northern seas, they might be in -sitting posture, staring with fixed and glassy eyes as if daring him to -advance.</p> - -<p>The temptation to obtain a glimpse of the place by striking one of the -matches was very great, but he refrained from the action, resolving -that Godfrey should share the sight.</p> - -<p>Before calling upon him to follow, a sudden desire came upon Idris to -grope his way once around the interior.</p> - -<p>Exploring the darkness with his stick he soon hit upon the chamber-wall -at the point where it shot off at right<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> angles to the side of the -passage. Passing his hand over its surface, an action accompanied on -his part by a feeling of disgust, the masonry being wet and slimy, he -discovered what seemed to be a rusty rod extending in a horizontal line -along the wall at the height of about six feet from the ground. Puzzled -at first to account for its use he came to the conclusion that it had -once served to uphold the tapestry with which the interiors of these -old Norse tombs were sometimes decorated. The tapestry itself was gone, -crumbled to dust, perhaps, with the lapse of time, but the metallic rod -remaining would serve to conduct him round the chamber.</p> - -<p>He shot a glance through the passage just traversed by him: the -darkness swallowed up its perspective, rendering it impossible for the -eye to form any judgment as to its length. The entrance seemed close -by, a square patch of white light, in which was framed a dark stooping -figure, that of Godfrey, vainly endeavouring to keep an eye on his -venturesome friend.</p> - -<p>Idris turned from the passage, and holding the rod with his left hand, -and grasping the stick in his right, he advanced slowly and cautiously -along the side of the chamber-wall, over ground that had, perhaps, been -untrodden for ten centuries.</p> - -<p>After taking six paces he was brought to a halt by the wall inclining -again at right angles. He had evidently reached one corner of the stone -chamber.</p> - -<p>Turning his face in this new direction, and still submitting to the -guidance of the supposed tapestry-rod, he continued his progress, -exploring the way before him with the stick.</p> - -<p>He paused again as his left hand came in contact with a small -triangular shred of cloth hanging to the rod. It was apparently a -fragment of tapestry. There might be other and larger portions farther -on, which, in view of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> their antiquity, would be of considerable -value. Pleased with the idea that he would not come away from the tomb -altogether empty-handed he was about to move forward again, when his -attention was suddenly diverted to the stick he was carrying.</p> - -<p>Without the exercise of any volition on his part it was slowly -inclining itself downwards. There was no mistaking the fact, and the -knowledge came upon him as a disagreeable surprise. It was as if the -serpent-rod had suddenly become instinct with life.</p> - -<p>His first impulse was to cast it from him, but thinking that its -downward motion might be due to the relaxed state of his muscles, -he raised and extended the stick horizontally: he kept it in that -position, but it was evident to his sense of feeling that the rod -manifested a tendency to assume an oblique direction, just as if a -thread were tied to its extremity, and some one below lightly pulling -it.</p> - -<p>What was the cause of this? Must he dismiss his former scepticism, -and believe in the powers of the divining rod? Had this staff of -witch-hazel, electrified by the nervous force of his own body, become -transformed for the moment into a sort of magnet, capable of being -attracted by metals? Was he standing on the site of the Viking's buried -treasure? Was the very treasure itself lying upon the clay flooring at -his feet? If he struck a match would his eye be caught by the sparkle -of silver and gold? No: he would reserve the light, and make what -discoveries he could without it.</p> - -<p>Relinquishing his hold of the metallic rod he dropped upon his knees, -and with his face bent low, put forth his hands.</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * *</p> - -<p>Hark! What was that?</p> - -<p>The silent watcher at the entrance started.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p> - -<p>A faint cry from the interior of the hillock as of one calling for -help, and then stillness.</p> - -<p>For some time Godfrey had kept his ear close to the flooring of the -passage, a position which enabled him to follow the footsteps of Idris. -But now these footsteps had ceased, their cessation being followed -shortly afterwards by the cry.</p> - -<p>Godfrey continued to listen, but though straining his ear to the -utmost he could not detect the faintest sound. A suspiciously horrible -stillness prevailed within.</p> - -<p>"Idris! Idris!" he called out, sending the full volume of his voice -along the passage: and "Idris! Idris!" was echoed from the roof in -tones that seemed like a mockery of his own. If the dead in the -sepulchral chamber were gibing at him the effect could not have been -more weird.</p> - -<p>Again he called aloud, and again there was no answer, save the echoes -of his own voice.</p> - -<p>"My God! what has happened?" he cried.</p> - -<p>There fell upon him a terror like that which has turned men's hair grey -in a single night. He did not doubt, he <i>could</i> not doubt, that some -disaster had happened: he must hasten to the rescue: duty, humanity, -friendship, honour—all these blending together in a voice of thunder -urged him forward. Every moment was precious; and yet to venture into -the dark chamber without a light seemed a piece of folly, for what was -there to prevent him from meeting with the same fate as Idris?</p> - -<p>He rose to his feet and turned his eyes towards the cliffs and -sea-beach in the hope of seeing a coast-guard whose lantern would at -this juncture be of inestimable service. But alas! no coast-guard was -visible, and to go off in search of one was out of the question, when a -minute might make all the difference between life and death.</p> - -<p>No: he must venture in alone, and without a light, and he nerved -himself for the task. Casting one glance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> at the sky, the sea, the -land, as objects he might never see again, he snatched up the pickaxe -to serve as a weapon of defence, against he knew not whom or what, and -plunged into the mouth of the excavation that yawned black and grim -before him.</p> - -<p>His course through the passage was much quicker than that of Idris had -been. There could be no danger here, seeing that Idris had traversed it -in safety. Therefore the surgeon groped his way swiftly along the wall -of the corridor until it suddenly turned off at right angles, whence he -concluded that he was at the entrance of the sepulchral chamber.</p> - -<p>"Idris, where are you?" he cried.</p> - -<p>There was no vocal reply, but a faint splash greeted his ears like the -movement of a hand through water, a sound which Godfrey interpreted as -an answer.</p> - -<p>For a terrible idea had seized him. The floor of the chamber was of -earth only, and not of masonry, he thought: and the rain of centuries, -percolating through the roof, had converted this flooring into a -quagmire incapable of supporting the lightest weight. Idris had become -immersed in it: had just sunk below the surface: his voice was gone: he -had just given his last gasp!</p> - -<p>How was he to save him? One step forward, and he himself might be in -the abyss of mud.</p> - -<p>To test his opinion he flung the pickaxe forward, taking care to avoid -the spot whence came the splash. As it fell Godfrey drew a breath of -relief. The clangour made by the falling implement proved that the -quagmire was the creation of his fancy. Still, what had become of Idris -that he made no reply? He must be somewhere within this chamber, seeing -that there was no egress from it except by the passage. O for a light, -if only that of a match! Its momentary gleam would suffice to dispel -the mystery.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p> - -<p>He listened for Idris' breathing, but failed to detect any sound: -Idris, if he were really here, was as still as the dead.</p> - -<p>There was no other course for Godfrey than to grope about until he came -upon the body of Idris, an unpleasant task, seeing that it might bring -him into contact with the bones of Vikings!</p> - -<p>He started forward at random. Five paces, and his knee knocked against -some obstruction. Putting out his hand he ascertained that directly in -front of him was something formed of hewn stone.</p> - -<p>With an instinctive feeling that this was a tomb, Godfrey gave it a -wide range, and in so doing stumbled and fell over another object.</p> - -<p>It was a human body. In a moment Godfrey was upon his knees, and -passing his hand quickly over the prostrate figure he discovered that -it was Idris in a state of coma.</p> - -<p>Quickly he felt for the match-box which Idris had put into his vest -pocket, and on finding it, drew it forth. Taking out one of the -wax-lights he struck it on the side of the box.</p> - -<p>Never within Godfrey's experience had the striking of a match been -attended with a result so appalling, for he immediately found himself -in an atmosphere of many-coloured flame. The hot breath of a fiery -furnace glowed around, dazzling his eyes, scorching his face.</p> - -<p>In that moment of bewilderment and terror the words of the runic -ring flashed through his mind, and found expression in his gasping -articulation:</p> - -<p>"<i>The fires of the Asas!</i>"</p> - -<p>Simultaneously with the illumination a fierce detonation like a -powder-blast rent the air, and Godfrey, flung backwards as by a giant -hand, tumbled senseless to the ground.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER VII</span> <span class="smaller">"WITHIN THE LOFTY TOMB"</span></h2> - -<p>Godfrey opened his eyes to find himself lying on the grassy slope of -Ormfell, staring up at the night-sky, with Idris kneeling beside him. A -cool sensation was playing around his neck, and, gradually waking up to -the reality of outward things, the surgeon discovered that his vest and -collar lay open to the breeze, and that Idris was sprinkling his face -with cold water-drops obtained from a pool close by.</p> - -<p>"Coming-to a little, I see," Idris observed cheerfully. "How do you -feel?"</p> - -<p>"Awfully queer and dizzy," replied Godfrey.</p> - -<p>He lifted himself to a sitting posture, utterly unable to account for -his present dazed condition.</p> - -<p>"You'll be all right in a few minutes. Take a pull at this -spirit-flask: that'll revive you. I owe my life to you, old fellow."</p> - -<p>"In what way?" asked Godfrey, his mind still too confused to recall the -recent accident.</p> - -<p>"Gaseous vapour would have claimed its victim. Your grandfather was -quite right in asserting this to be a carboniferous soil. Some of the -coal-gas has issued to the surface. The atmosphere within the hillock -was a mixture of carbon dioxide and floating fire-damp. Foolishly -creeping about, with mouth held to the ground, I took in such a whiff -of the one as to be quite overpowered by it before I had time to rise, -while the other exploded as soon as you struck the match."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p> - -<p>Godfrey, now quite alive to the past, gave an ejaculation of annoyance.</p> - -<p>"I'm a pretty doctor not to have warned you against noxious vapours! -It's a marvel we are both alive. But why was I not overpowered?"</p> - -<p>"Probably because you were not holding your face to the earth where the -gas collects, though very likely you, too, would have succumbed in a -few moments. However, all's well that ends well. Your striking a light -was a fortunate thing, for it appears to have acted like an electric -discharge in instantly clearing the air. True, you were stunned, but -I recovered; whether instantly by the explosion, or more slowly by -the purifying atmosphere, I cannot tell. All I know is I awoke, and -realizing what had happened, and feeling you beside me, I lost no time -in dragging you out into the open air. And here we are, none the worse -for our experience, I trust. No doubt it was occurrences like this that -caused the old Norsemen to believe that Odin guarded the tombs of the -dead by darting forth flames."</p> - -<p>"The fires of the Asas are real enough, after all," muttered Godfrey, -still feeling like one in a dream. "Hasn't the sound of the explosion -brought any one here?"</p> - -<p>"It seems not," said Idris, looking round. "So far we are safe. Old -Orm offers a stubborn resistance," he continued. "'He being dead, yet -fighteth.' But he is doomed to be defeated, for I will not go until I -have examined the interior of the hillock."</p> - -<p>"You are not thinking of venturing into that deathtrap again?" said -Godfrey, aghast.</p> - -<p>"There is no danger now: at least, not from gases. The explosion -dissolved them, and the outer air has had time to penetrate within. -Besides, forewarned is forearmed. We know our peril: if one of us -should be overpowered, the other must drag him out."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p> - -<p>"How can you make an investigation without a light?"</p> - -<p>"We shall have light enough. Fortunately, you snapped the lid of the -box tightly before striking your match—an action that effectually -screened the remaining two from the flame of the fire-damp."</p> - -<p>"Two matches will not help us much."</p> - -<p>"There you're wrong. We will take some of this brushwood inside and -light a bonfire: and the sooner we make a beginning the better. It's -two o'clock now. In another hour or so day will be dawning."</p> - -<p>Inwardly groaning at the perversity of his friend, Godfrey lent a hand -in collecting the materials necessary for the fire: and, not without -some trepidation, carried them through the dark passage into the -mortuary chamber, the atmosphere of which, as his nostrils assured him, -had become considerably clarified since his previous visit.</p> - -<p>Fearing that the two matches when kindled might expire before he could -fire the twigs, which were damp with the afternoon's rain, Idris drew -forth a small book, a pocket edition of <i>Hamlet</i>, and proceeded to -detach leaf after leaf, twisting them into spirals. These he handed -to Godfrey, enjoining him to keep a flame alive by kindling one from -another till the twigs should have fairly caught.</p> - -<p>"Now to strike the fateful match!" he said. "Pray heaven the Asas do -not give us another pyrotechnic display!"</p> - -<p>He cautiously struck the match. Godfrey instantly kindled one of his -paper-spirals from the flame.</p> - -<p>"No fireworks this time, you see," remarked Idris, as all remained -quiet. "This is what may be called <i>making light</i> of Shakespeare," he -added, as, taking the kindled papers one after another from Godfrey's -hand, he applied them to the leaves and twigs, endeavouring to force -them into a blaze.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p> - -<p>The pale, bluish glare that sprang up made the chamber faintly visible. -Idris, intent on his task of ignition saw nothing but the brushwood -before him, but Godfrey could not refrain from casting a timid glance -around, even at the risk of extinguishing the lighted paper in his hand.</p> - -<p>There was, however, nothing very dreadful in the scene before him. He -found himself standing in a chamber about twenty feet square, the sides -of which were composed of rough-hewn blocks of masonry, glistening -with moisture, and dotted with patches of fungous growth. The roof -was formed by a layer of tree-trunks, necessarily of great size and -strength in order to support the vast weight above. The floor seemed -to be of earth, its surface glimmering here and there with tiny black -pools, formed by the constant dropping of moisture from the roof.</p> - -<p>But the treasures deposited of old by Hilda the Alruna for her son, -Magnus of Deira—where were they? Well for Idris that he had not set -his heart on finding them, for the chamber was bare, save for one -object in the centre. This was the sarcophagus-like structure against -which Godfrey had collided when looking for Idris' body. By the -flickering light he could see that this receptacle was of oblong shape, -the sides consisting of four upright stone slabs let into the earth, -with a fifth one resting upon them like a lid.</p> - -<p>Idris had now succeeded in his task, and the twigs and branches blazing -up cast over the chamber a ruddy glow sufficiently bright for the -taking of observations.</p> - -<p>"This is better than a lantern. I warrant the place hasn't looked so -cheerful for centuries," remarked Idris, as he stood by the blaze and -took a survey of the chamber.</p> - -<p>"Cheerful at present, perhaps, but in ten minutes we shall be smoked out."</p> - -<div class="center"><a name="i122.jpg" id="i122.jpg"></a><img src="images/i122.jpg" alt="Illustration" /></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I think not. This fire will burn bright and clear presently, and will -give out little smoke."</p> - -<p>Taking up a lighted brand from the fire Idris moved forward and began -his investigations with the tomb by making a scrutiny of its lid.</p> - -<p>"No inscription here, runic or otherwise.—Humph! shall we supply one, -<span class="smcap">Hic Jacet Ormus</span>.—Now to remove this slab! Let us see if there -are bones beneath."</p> - -<p>Too eager to wait for Godfrey's assistance he seized the lid with one -hand, and, exerting all his strength, swung it off laterally.</p> - -<p>A cry of surprise, rather than of alarm, broke from him, as he caught -sight of a full-sized human skeleton lying within. A burning fragment -from the torch he carried dropped within the teeth of the skeleton, -where, still continuing to glow, it lit up the skull with weird effect, -the red flicker giving an apparent motion to the grinning jaws and -eyeless sockets.</p> - -<p>"Are these the remains of your Viking?" asked Godfrey.</p> - -<p>"Can there be doubt about it? This is old Orm, or what is left of him," -replied Idris, holding the torch low over the skeleton.—"Here reposes -one who, I doubt not, made a brave figure in his day. And now? 'None so -poor to do him reverence.' The people of Ormsby do not know even his -name, and yet he was the founder of their town, its nomenclator, in -fact. The old Greeks would have raised a statue and an altar to him in -their market-place, and have worshipped him as their hero eponymous. -And here he lies neglected and forgotten!</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>'Shade of the mighty! can it be</div> -<div>That this is all remains of thee?'</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>"Is this wasted bone the 'high arm' spoken of on the runic ring? Where -be now its feats of strength? And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> where is the wealth won by his -ashen spear? the riches that conferred upon him the epithet of Golden? -the treasure placed within the 'lofty tomb' by his wife, Hilda, the -Norse prophetess? Vanished! Whither? Removed by whom? and when? Did -Magnus of Deira really receive the runic ring despatched to him by his -mother? Did he come here in ancient days to remove his heritage, or -has the treasure been taken by other, perhaps modern, hands? If so, by -whose? By the masked man of Quilaix's? By Captain Rochefort's or by my -father's? Have they left behind any trace of their visit?"</p> - -<p>His eyes roving around the chamber were attracted by a fabric lying at -the foot of one of the walls.</p> - -<p>"What have we here?" he said, stepping forward and picking it up. "A -piece of cloth! Will this give us a clue to the men who were here last?"</p> - -<p>For better inspection he carried the cloth to the light of the fire. -When unrolled the fabric proved to be oblong in shape, six feet by -four, its edges very much frayed, and its surface so defaced by clay -that it was impossible at first to discover its texture, colour, or use.</p> - -<p>"I see what it is," he remarked at last. "Look at that triangular shred -of cloth hanging from the metallic rod: its shape tallies with the -triangular rent in this fabric. This has been torn from that rail: it -is a part of the tapestry that once decked the walls of this chamber. I -am disappointed again; I thought to find a modern vesture, and am put -off with ancient tapestry."</p> - -<p>He began to scrape the fabric with his penknife.</p> - -<p>"I can detect some coloured threads," he went on. "It is figured -arras: but it is impossible at present to make out what the figures -are. Here are some letters, too. I can detect N. and T. We must keep -this. When cleaned it may prove to be an interesting 'find'—of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>a more -ancient date, unless my chronology be at fault, than the famous Bayeux -Tapestry. What puzzles me is, why the man who carried off the rest of -the tapestry should leave this behind him."</p> - -<p>"Probably because it is a torn remnant."</p> - -<p>"But it would be a very simple matter to sew it to the main piece -again. Do you notice how the rail is bent where the three cornered bit -is?"</p> - -<p>Godfrey looked and saw that the rod was bent downwards.</p> - -<p>"What inference do you draw from that?" Idris asked.</p> - -<p>"That somebody must have been tugging heavily at the tapestry to cause -such a curvature."</p> - -<p>"Exactly. But why should any one wrench so violently at the tapestry, -tapestry that was evidently regarded as valuable, otherwise it would -not have been carried off?"</p> - -<p>Godfrey shrugged his shoulders at the apparent irrelevancy of Idris' -remarks.</p> - -<p>"Your question is not susceptible of an answer."</p> - -<p>"True—at present. But an investigator should take note of every -circumstance, however trifling, although at the time he may fail to -discern its true significance."</p> - -<p>"But seeing that the tapestry may have been carried off centuries ago, -it is difficult to discover the present application of your remark."</p> - -<p>"On the other hand it may have been carried off only recently: it -is these recent traces that I wish to find. Somehow, this bent rod -attracts me. Ah!"</p> - -<p>Whilst speaking thus he suddenly recalled an incident that had occurred -during his previous exploration in the dark.</p> - -<p>"Godfrey, your divining rod. I am half-a-believer in its powers. At any -rate I am going to try an experiment."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p> - -<p>Taking the hazel stick he walked to that part of the wall where the -shred of tapestry hung.</p> - -<p>"Either I am dreaming," he said, "or a singular experience befell me at -this spot."</p> - -<p>Standing in the same position as before he extended the stick -horizontally, explaining to Godfrey the reason for his act.</p> - -<p>But Solomon's saying, "The thing that hath been, it is that which shall -be," was not verified on the present occasion. Though Idris waited -patiently for several minutes the rod manifested none of the downward -tendency that it had previously shown.</p> - -<p>Godfrey himself took the stick and tried the experiment, but with no -better result. He expressed his opinion that Idris must have been the -victim of an illusion: but to this Idris would not assent.</p> - -<p>"The rod does not turn now, that's clear. But that it <i>did</i> turn I am -confident. It was no fancy of mine."</p> - -<p>"Let us dig," said Godfrey, "and see whether there is anything beneath -the soil that could have caused it."</p> - -<p>With these words he took up the spade and began digging. Idris followed -his example, wielding the pickaxe, but found, after a few strokes, -that some hard substance prevented the point of the implement from -penetrating to a greater depth than three or four inches.</p> - -<p>"This earth is mere superficial deposit, percolations from the roof," -said Idris. "There is a stone flooring beneath."</p> - -<p>In a few moments they had cleared away the terrene deposit, discovering -nothing however, except a block of smooth masonry, at which Idris dealt -a few strokes by way of experiment.</p> - -<p>"Humph! seems solid enough. The dull sound given forth is hardly -suggestive of a cavity. What made the rod curve, I wonder?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span></p> - -<p>Finding no answer to this question, he turned reluctantly away, -and began to explore other parts of the chamber. He made a careful -examination of its flooring, allowing no part of it to escape him. With -the spade he swept aside the black water from the tiny hollows, and -with the pickaxe he probed the ground at various points, discovering -everywhere stone pavement beneath the superficial covering of earth.</p> - -<p>The object that he was hoping to find—a match-box, or a button -bearing the maker's name; the dated sheet of a newspaper; a scrap of -handwriting: a handkerchief, marked with the owner's initials: or some -article of like character—existed only in his fancy. A thorough search -on the part of the two friends failed to bring anything to light, -either on the surface of the floor, or embedded within the clay.</p> - -<p>There was nothing to indicate the date at which the tumulus had been -last entered: whether ten, twenty, or a hundred years before. For all -they could tell to the contrary, many centuries might have passed since -its interior had been trodden by human footsteps.</p> - -<p>Relinquishing at last his fruitless labours Idris seated himself on the -edge of the Viking's tomb with disappointment written on his features.</p> - -<p>"I have so long clung to the hope that this place would afford a clue -to the finding of my father, that I cannot give up the notion even -now, when its futility seems most apparent. You may think me fanciful, -Godfrey, but something seems to whisper that there <i>are</i> traces of him -here, if I did but know where to look for them. And yet, I suppose, we -have done all that it is possible to do?"</p> - -<p>He rose again from his seat and scrutinized the four walls of the -chamber, sounding them with the pickaxe.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p> - -<p>"There does not appear to be any cell or passage behind these," he -muttered.</p> - -<p>He turned his eyes upwards, and took a survey of the black tree trunks -forming the roof of the chamber: and finished his investigations -by probing the dust of the Viking's tomb with the end of the -walking-stick, but made no further discovery.</p> - -<p>"So end my hopes of finding my father," he muttered sadly. "My labour -has been expended on a vain quest. Years of search throughout Europe: -years of study over runic letters, end in—a dead man's bones!—How -this old fellow grins! One would think he enjoys my discomfiture. I -shall take his skull back with me."</p> - -<p>"Why, in heaven's name?"</p> - -<p>"A whim of mine, nothing more. I have taken a fancy for the skull, and -the skull I will have. So old Orm," he continued, stooping down and -detaching the grisly head-piece from the vertebral column, "prepare to -face the light of day after a sleep of centuries in darkness."</p> - -<p>"Put it back again," said Godfrey. "What good can it do you? You can't -possibly put it to any use."</p> - -<p>"The skull of a brave Viking is a trophy well worth preserving, a noble -ornament for my sideboard. And if you talk of use, there are several -uses to which I can put it. I may set it with silver, and convert it -into a drinking-cup, like that used by Byron. Or I may turn it into a -pretty lamp to write tragedy by, after the fashion of the poet Young. -Or, imitating the old Egyptians, I may use it as a table-decoration -to remind me of death, and of the vanity of all things human. The -skull will be a souvenir of our expedition, a memento of an experience -unique, at least, in my life.—So hurrah!" he cried, holding the trophy -aloft, "<span class="smcap">Hurrah for the Viking's Skull!</span>"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * *</p> - -<p>Day was dawning when Idris and Godfrey reached home, after concealing, -so far as lay in their power, the traces of their night's work. -Beatrice, who had been sitting up anxiously awaiting their return, gave -a little scream when she beheld their blackened faces.</p> - -<p>"Heavens! what has happened?" she cried.</p> - -<p>Over the repast that she had kept in readiness for them Idris gave -an account of the expedition, finishing his story by producing the -relics he had brought away with him, namely, the Viking's skull and the -fragment of tapestry.</p> - -<p>"Let us have some warm water, Trixie," said Godfrey. "We will try to -clean this tapestry."</p> - -<p>A bowl of warm water was soon procured, Godfrey diluting it with a -powder brought by him from his surgery.</p> - -<p>"A chemical preparation of my own," he explained, "warranted to take -out stains without injuring the cloth."</p> - -<p>Under Beatrice's manipulation the relic gradually disclosed itself as a -piece of brownish-coloured linen, divided by a vertical line of black -thread into two sections of unequal length. Each section consisted of a -picture woven in woollen threads on the linen background, and each was -fragmentary in character, the beginning of the one and the end of the -other being torn away.</p> - -<p>The left section represented a battle-field: spears were hurtling in -air: two warriors were lying prostrate, and a third, a yellow-haired -hero, his bare arms flung aloft, was in the act of falling backwards, -his breast pierced by an arrow. These figures, drawn to a scale of -about half the human size, were in a good state of preservation. The -colours of the garments had scarcely faded: the golden filaments -composing the shields still retained their brightness: and the swords, -woven from silver threads, glinted in the rising sunlight, as Beatrice -moved the fabric to and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> fro. To this section was attached the -subscription:—"<span class="smcap">Hic Ormum Aureum Occidunt.</span>"</p> - -<p>"What do these words mean?" Beatrice asked.</p> - -<p>"'Here they kill Orm the Golden,'" Idris replied.</p> - -<p>"Orm the Golden," Godfrey repeated. "You are right, then, Idris, in -your theory as to that tumulus being the tomb of the warrior spoken of -on the runic ring. I confess that till this moment I have had my doubts -on the point, but this piece of tapestry is decisive."</p> - -<p>In the other section of the cloth the same warrior, still pierced -by the arrow, was represented as lying prone upon the earth: two -figures, those of a woman and of a boy, were bending over him. That -it was night-time was shown by the torches they carried. The woman -had evidently come to bear off the body of the dead chief. The words, -"<span class="smcap">Hilda Invenit</span>"—were clearly discernible; the rest of the -inscription was wanting.</p> - -<p>"'Hilda finds'—Orm, I suppose the next word would be, if we had the -inscription in full," said Idris. "Hilda—the lady of the runic ring, -you will remember. This other figure is perhaps intended for her -son Magnus: if so, it is clear that he was a lad at the time of his -father's death, which may account for his mother's act in hiding the -treasure in Ormfell. There it was to remain till her son should be of -age to defend his heritage. The roll of tapestry suspended round the -tomb was evidently, when entire, a complete record in needlework of the -life of Orm the Viking. It must have formed an interesting relic of -Norse times. A pity we haven't the whole of it."</p> - -<p>"And so this is Hilda the Alruna!" mused Beatrice, contemplating the -figure on the tapestry. "How curiously we are linked with the past! To -think that the expedition in which you nearly lost your lives is the -result of a sentence engraved on a Norse altar-ring a thousand years -ago by the lady portrayed on this piece of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> needlework! She had dark -hair, if this be her 'counterfeit presentment.' And to think, too, that -we possess the very skull of the yellow-haired Viking pictured here! It -sounds too romantic to be true. Where are you going to put your grisly -trophy, Mr. Breakspear?"</p> - -<p>"The head of the staircase is the orthodox place."</p> - -<p>"The orthodox place?" repeated Beatrice, puzzled by the expression.</p> - -<p>"Some ancient houses keep a skull as part of the furnishings," Idris -explained. "It is supposed to bring good luck, and the head of the -staircase is its usual place, any removal of it being fraught with -danger to the house. Of course this is foolery, but——"</p> - -<p>"But still we may as well be in the fashion," smiled Beatrice, "and so -I'll put it where you say."</p> - -<p>The Viking's skull was therefore taken by her to the embrasure of the -window that looked down the staircase, after which act Beatrice went -off for a brief spell of sleep, this being the first time she had ever -gone to bed at sun-rising.</p> - -<p>Godfrey, preparing to follow her example, lingered for a moment, -attracted by the appearance of the water in which the tapestry had been -cleansed.</p> - -<p>"How red this water is!" he murmured. "To what is the colour due?"</p> - -<p>"Probably to the reddish coloured clay with which the cloth was -stained," replied Idris.</p> - -<p>"It may be so," said the physician, slowly and thoughtfully, "but -if I remember rightly, the clay in that part of the chamber where -the tapestry lay was not red at all. The appearance of this water is -certainly curious. One might almost take it for blood!"</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER VIII</span> <span class="smaller">LORELIE RIVIÈRE</span></h2> - -<p>The expedition to Ormfell had been a failure from Idris' point of view. -Deaf to the voice of reason he had clung to the idea that the Viking's -tomb held a clue that would aid him in finding his father. Having now -received clear proof of the fallacy of that hope Idris, after a few -hours' sleep, wandered forth by the seashore to consider what his next -step should be.</p> - -<p>It was an afternoon of brilliant sunshine. The tide was out, but -without making any inquiries as to the time of its return, he strolled -leisurely onward, wrapped in meditation.</p> - -<p>Casually raising his eyes from the ribbed sea-sand he caught sight -of a structure, locally known as "The Stairs of David." This was an -arrangement of three ladders, suspended one above another on the face -of the cliff, which at this point rose vertically to a height of more -than a hundred feet. Iron hooks kept these ladders in position. The -structure, a very frail one, had been put up originally to enable -crab-fishers to reach this part of the beach with more expedition.</p> - -<p>Still deep in thought Idris passed on, and had left the ladder about a -mile in his rear, when he suddenly paused and looked in the direction -of the murmuring sound—the sound he had heard for some time, but to -which he had given no heed.</p> - -<p>The tide was coming in, and coming in so quickly, that unless he -hastened back at once he ran the risk of being<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> drowned: for steep -cliffs rose above him, and the open beach was at least five miles away.</p> - -<p>Just on the point of setting off at a run he was checked by the -recollection of "The Stairs of David." It would be easy to scale the -cliff by means of this structure.</p> - -<p>He moved onward at a leisurely pace, and then stopped abruptly. What -was that object rising and falling on the surface of the water a few -yards in rear of the advancing line of foam? Let "The Stairs of David" -be far off or close by, he must satisfy his curiosity before mounting -them.</p> - -<p>He ran to the edge of the breakers, and, with a thrill of surprise, -discovered that the undulating object was a woman's hat.</p> - -<p>How came it there? He had not, so far as he could remember, encountered -anybody in his walk along the shore. He looked over the dancing waves, -but neither boat nor vessel was visible: he looked up and down the -beach: he looked along the craggy summit of the cliffs that rose in -frowning grandeur above him, but could see neither man nor woman. He -stood, a solitary figure, on a shore that stretched away north and -south for many miles.</p> - -<p>Regardless of the advancing tide he remained motionless, fascinated -by the sight of the hat, his uneasiness deepening each moment. There -was something familiar in the grey felt with its once graceful feather -bedrenched with the salt spray.</p> - -<p>He advanced into the shallow water and lifted the hat for a closer -survey. It was rarely that Idris took note of a woman's attire, but he -could recall every detail of the dress worn by Mademoiselle Rivière on -the day he saw her in the Ravengar Chantry, and he knew that this hat -was hers.</p> - -<p>His heart, weighted by a terrible idea, sank within him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> like lead. -Half expecting to see a dead form come floating past he glanced again -over the surface of the rippling tide.</p> - -<p>He now recollected, what he had hitherto forgotten, that there were -dangerous quicksands along this part of the coast. Must he believe that -Mademoiselle Rivière had become engulfed, and that the tide was now -foaming jubilantly over her head?</p> - -<p>Once more he looked along the shore, and, as he looked, his pulses -thrilled with a sudden and delicious relief; for at the sandy base of a -distant cliff he caught sight of a figure lying prone.</p> - -<p>Dropping the hat he hurried over the intervening space, and in a moment -more was kneeling beside the form of Lorelie Rivière. Beneath her lay -the third and lowest of the three ladders that formed the so-called -"Stairs of David." She had been either ascending or descending the -frail structure, and it had given way. The ladder, worm-eaten with age, -had snapped into three portions on touching the sands, and the shock of -its fall had deprived her of consciousness.</p> - -<p>Her eyelids were closed. Silent and motionless she lay, her breathing -so faint as scarce to seem breathing at all, her delicate fingers still -clinging to a rung of the fallen ladder.</p> - -<p>"Thank heaven, she is alive!" murmured Idris, a great dread rolling -from his heart.</p> - -<p>He gently detached her fingers from the rung of the ladder, and, -tenderly raising her, rested her head upon his knee, turning her face -towards the breeze. As he did so, the murmuring sound, that had never -once ceased, seemed to swell louder, and his heart almost leaped into -his mouth when he noticed how rapidly the tide was advancing.</p> - -<p>That terrible tide!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p> - -<p>Were it not for the rush of waters swirling forward he might have -thought that some good fairy was favouring his heart's dearest wish. -The loveliest maiden whom he had ever seen was resting within his arms, -dependent upon him for safety. But what safety could he give? Their -position seemed hopeless. The last rung of the middle ladder hung -forty feet or more above his head. The lowest ladder lay on the sands -in three portions, and he realized at a glance the impossibility of -refixing them in their original position.</p> - -<p>"No boat in sight! Impossible to scale the cliffs! Too far to swim with -her to Ormsby! What is to be our fate?" he muttered.</p> - -<p>Idris had often looked death in the face, but never in circumstances -so hard as these. Was he to die holding this fair maiden in his arms, -helplessly witnessing her death-gasps? And the voice of the sea, -swelling ever higher and higher, seemed to give an answering cry of -"Yes, yes!"</p> - -<p>The breeze blowing full upon her face had a reviving effect upon her. -Slowly she opened her eyes, and a look of innocent wonder came over her -face when she met Idris' earnest gaze bent upon her.</p> - -<p>"You fell from the ladder, you remember," he said, answering the -question in her eyes. "Are you hurt? Have you broken any bones?"</p> - -<p>"I—I think not," was the reply.</p> - -<p>"Shall I help you to stand?"</p> - -<p>She assented. But no sooner was she raised to her feet than throbs of -pain began to shoot through her left ankle, and she leaned for support -against the cliff, resting her right foot only upon the sand.</p> - -<p>"My ankle pains me. I don't think I can walk."</p> - -<p>While thus speaking she chanced to look upward at the ladder hanging -far above her head, and then, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>lowering her eyes to the flowing sea, -she suddenly took in the full peril of their position.</p> - -<p>"The tide! the tide!" she murmured, clasping her hands. "We are lost."</p> - -<p>"We certainly mustn't remain here. And if you cannot walk I must carry -you."</p> - -<p>Idris' cheerful and brisk air did not deceive her. Glancing from left -to right she saw the futility of his proposal as well as he saw it -himself.</p> - -<p>The contour of the shore formed a semicircular bay many miles in -length, and its sands were lined by a wall of lofty perpendicular -cliffs without a single gap to break their continuity. Idris and his -companion were standing somewhere near the centre of this curve. The -tide, extending in a straight line across the bay, had now closed in -upon the extreme points of the arc-like sweep, and was still advancing, -covering the sand and reducing at each moment the extent of their -standing room. Before Idris could have carried her half-a-mile the sea -would be breaking many feet deep upon the base of the cliffs.</p> - -<p>"You cannot save me," said Mademoiselle Rivière, a sudden calmness -coming over her. "It is impossible. You must leave me and try to save -yourself."</p> - -<p>The gentle maiden, whom a harsh word melts to tears, will often face -death with fortitude, the great crisis evoking all the latent heroism -of her nature. So it was now, and Idris, looking into the depth of -Mademoiselle Rivière's steadfast eyes, caught a glimpse of how those -Christian women may have looked who faced martyrdom in the pagan days -of old. Strange that a maiden, seemingly so good and brave, should have -excited the aversion of Beatrice!</p> - -<p>"If you die, I die with you," said Idris. "But I have no intention of -letting either you or myself die. There is a way of escape open to us."</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p> - -<p>For, with a sudden thrill of joy, he remembered that, at a point a few -hundred yards to the north of their present position, he had passed -a great pile of rocks, fallen crags detached from the sides of the -overhanging precipice. The spot was invisible from where he now stood, -being hidden behind a projecting buttress of the cliff, but he judged -that the summit of this rocky mass was certainly above high-water mark. -There he and Mademoiselle Rivière must remain till the ebb of the tide, -unless they should be so fortunate as to attract the notice of some -passing boat.</p> - -<p>Making known his intention, Idris added, "Pardon me; this is no time -for ceremony."</p> - -<p>He lifted her in his arms, and she, with a sudden and natural revulsion -in favour of life, submitted to his will, placing her arms around his -neck to steady her person.</p> - -<p>The humming sea, as if bent on securing its victims, came foaming with -threatening rapidity over the bare stretch of sand, throwing forward -long streamlets, that, like eager creatures in a race, seemed striving -with each other to be first at the foot of the cliff.</p> - -<p>Though Lorelie Rivière was but a light weight Idris' progress -was necessarily slow. At each step his foot sank deeper into the -rapidly-moistening sand, and ere long the water itself was swirling -round his ankles, and flinging its sparkling spray against the base of -the precipice. And yet in all his life he had never experienced the -pure joy that filled him at that moment. The woman whom he most loved -was reclining within his arms, and clasped so closely to him, that he -could feel her breast swelling against his own, and her hair touching -his cheek. There was a subtle charm in the situation: what wonder, -then, that he desired to prolong it, and that he moved at a slower pace -as he drew near the pile of fallen crags?</p> - -<p>The desired haven was gained at last, and Mademoiselle<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> Rivière, partly -by her own efforts and partly with the help of Idris, clambered up the -face of the slippery and weed-grown rocks, the top of which formed an -irregular, hummocky platform, a few yards in extent.</p> - -<p>"Saved!" she murmured, sinking down and scarcely able to repress a -tendency to cry. "But will not the tide cover this ledge?"</p> - -<p>"No. See here!" replied Idris, plucking a weed beside her. "Samphire! -It never grows below salt water. We are quite safe."</p> - -<p>Mademoiselle Rivière clasped her hands: her lips moved, and Idris knew -that she was breathing a silent prayer.</p> - -<p>"You have saved my life," she said, looking up at him with gratitude -shining from her eyes. "How can I thank you?"</p> - -<p>Though he had seen Mademoiselle Rivière but once, and then for a moment -only: though this was his first time of conversing with her, Idris -intuitively felt that she was the one woman in the world for him: and -that though happiness might be possible apart from her, such happiness -would be but the shadow of that derivable from her undivided love.</p> - -<p>Fortune was certainly favouring him. He would have given half his -wealth to any one who could have brought about such a situation as -the present, and lo! the event had happened naturally, of itself, -and without any premeditation on his part. It was wonderful! Many -hours might pass ere he and Mademoiselle Rivière could quit the spot -where they now were. He determined to make good use of this golden -opportunity. He would exert all his powers to gain a place, if not -in her affection, at least in her friendship, so that her feeling on -parting from him should contain something of regret.</p> - -<p>"How can I thank you?" she repeated.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p> - -<p>"By not thanking me. How did the accident happen?"</p> - -<p>"My hat was the cause of it all. I was standing on the edge of the -cliff when the wind carried it off to the sands below. Not wishing to -return home bare-headed, I clambered down 'The Stairs of David' after -it. The ladder gave way, and I fell. A sudden stop, and I remember no -more."</p> - -<p>"It was well the ground at the foot of the cliff was soft sand," said -Idris.</p> - -<p>"It was well, as you say," replied Mademoiselle Rivière with a shiver. -"I shall never forget the sensation of falling through the air."</p> - -<p>"Does your ankle still pain you?" Idris asked, observing that she -shrank from placing her left foot on the ground.</p> - -<p>"A little," she smiled.</p> - -<p>"You are sure it is not dislocated—broken?"</p> - -<p>"O no; it is merely a sprain. How long shall we have to remain here?" -she added.</p> - -<p>This was a question that Idris himself had been considering. It -appeared that Mademoiselle Rivière, on setting out for her walk, had -not told any one of the direction she had intended to take: Idris had -been similarly negligent. Hence it was very unlikely that men from -Ormsby would come cruising along the shore in boats to search for them. -To scale the precipice was out of the question. To shout for aid would -be of little avail, for as the cliff above them was lofty, and the -highroad ran a considerable distance from its edge, there was little -probability that their voices would be heard. Their position rendered -it impossible to make any signals that would be visible at Ormsby, that -town being situated just behind the cliff that formed one extremity of -the bay.</p> - -<p>"I fear," said Idris, after considering all these things,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> "that our -captivity is dependent upon the good graces of the tide."</p> - -<p>"And the tide will be several hours in turning," said Mademoiselle -Rivière. "Well, I suppose I must play the philosopher, and accept the -situation. It is certainly better to be here than under the waves."</p> - -<p>If her beauty charmed Idris, her manner, pleasant and without -affectation, charmed him still more.</p> - -<p>So interested had he been in her companionship that he had hitherto -failed to notice that the face of the overhanging cliff was pierced by -a deep cavern, the mouth of which was on a level with the top of their -rocky platform.</p> - -<p>"What is this?" he said, stepping forward to take a closer view. "A -cave, as I live. A coast-guard's place for watching smugglers, I -suppose."</p> - -<p>"That must be the 'Hermit's Cave,'" said Mademoiselle Rivière, turning -her eyes upon it, "so named from an ancient recluse who is said to have -made it his home. I am told that the chair in which he sat is still to -be seen, cut out of the solid rock."</p> - -<p>"Excellent! You must occupy that seat, mademoiselle. It will be more -pleasant there than sitting out here upon this slippery windy rock."</p> - -<p>She rose, glad of the proposed change, for the wind was playing -confusion with her hair. Observing her wince, as her left foot touched -the ground, Idris said, with a smile:—</p> - -<p>"You had better let me carry you."</p> - -<p>Lorelie coloured, neither assenting nor opposing. Since Idris had -carried her once it would be prudery to resist now, and so, knowing -that she must either accept his aid or else crawl to the spot upon her -hands and knees, she entrusted herself to his arms, and in this way -gained the entrance of the cave, which was of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>considerable extent, and -strewn with logs, planks, and odd pieces of timber.</p> - -<p>"Where does all this wood come from?" she asked.</p> - -<p>"Wreckage-timber, probably; doubtless placed here by the coast-guard to -be used as firing in cold weather. See! here is the hermit's seat you -spoke of," said Idris, indicating a piece of rock jutting from the wall -of the cave near its entrance. It had been hollowed out by art into the -rude resemblance of an armchair, and within this recess Idris placed -his companion.</p> - -<p>"I hope you dined well before setting out," he said, "for our grotto -offers nothing in the shape of commissariat."</p> - -<p>"I am somewhat thirsty," replied Lorelie, as she turned her eyes upon a -tiny spring of water, which, issuing from a fissure in the wall of the -cave, flowed silently down into a depression hollowed out in the floor, -just beside the hermit's seat; then, overflowing from the basin into -a groove of its own making, the water became lost in an orifice a few -feet distant.</p> - -<p>"Here is a remedy for thirst," said Idris. "The daily drink of our -hermit. 'The waters of Siloah that go softly,' was perhaps his name for -it. The eremite's crockeryware having perished, how do you propose to -drink?"</p> - -<p>"With Nature's cup," smiled Lorelie, curving her hands into the shape -of a bowl.</p> - -<p>Mindful of her ankle she slid cautiously upon her knees and bent, a -charming picture, over the pool.</p> - -<p>"How clear and still," she murmured. "Its surface is like a mirror."</p> - -<p>"Then do not gaze too long upon it, lest you meet the fate of -Narcissus."</p> - -<p>"Narcissus?" she repeated, looking up at him with inquiring eyes.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p> - -<p>"He died from the reflection of his own loveliness."</p> - -<p>Idris regretted his words almost in the very moment of their utterance, -for he could tell by the sudden clouding of her face that she was -averse to the language of gallantry. Clearly she was not a woman to -be won by empty compliment, and he resolved to steer clear of such a -quicksand. He was glad to observe that when she had resumed her seat -the pleasant smile was again on her lip.</p> - -<p>Attentive to every variation in her countenance he began to discern two -moods in Lorelie Rivière: the one vivacious and sprightly, and this -seemed to be her original disposition: the other, pensive and sad, the -result, so he judged, of some secret sorrow.</p> - -<p>He longed to know more of this fair lady, slighted by Beatrice; the -lady who had once lived at Nantes in the very house that fronted the -scene of the murder of Duchesne, that murder for which his father had -been condemned: the lady who was erecting in St. Oswald's Churchyard a -marble cross inscribed with an epitaph that seemed almost applicable to -his father's case: the lady whose playing upon the organ had wrought so -weird an effect upon his mind.</p> - -<p>All these things contributed to invest Lorelie Rivière with a charming -air of mystery, but Idris recognized that the time was not yet ripe to -press for confidences.</p> - -<p>Dragging a few logs forward he disposed them so as to form a seat for -himself near the entrance of the cavern, remarking as he did so:—</p> - -<p>"We must not forget to look out for passing boats."</p> - -<p>The afternoon sun was filling the air with a dusky golden glow. The -waves dancing and sparkling below the mouth of the cave flashed -emerald and sapphire hues upon its roof, irradiating the place with an -ever-changing light.</p> - -<p>To Idris the situation was a charming tableau, a living<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> idyll, and one -that was rendered all the more pleasant by contrast with their recent -perilous position. Mademoiselle Rivière trembled as she reflected on -what might have happened but for the chance passing of this stranger. -Strange that until this moment it had not occurred to her to ask his -name!</p> - -<p>"You know my name," she said, "but I have yet to learn yours."</p> - -<p>"My name is Breakspear," he replied, withholding his true patronymic; -and feeling as he spoke a sense of shame of having to deceive her even -in so small a matter; "Idris Breakspear."</p> - -<p>"<i>Idris!</i>" she said, with a sudden start, as if the name had touched -some chord in her memory. "Idris! It is a somewhat uncommon name."</p> - -<p>"We will say, then, that its rarity is a point in its favour," smiled -Idris, who had observed her start, and wondered at the cause.</p> - -<p>"Have we not met before, Mr. Breakspear?"</p> - -<p>"I saw you two days ago in the Ravengar Chantry," he replied. He did -not say, as he might truthfully have said, that during these two days -he had been thinking of little else but that brief meeting. "Miss -Ravengar and I," he continued, "had been listening to your recital -on the organ. I must congratulate you on your skill as a musician, -Mademoiselle Rivière. May I ask the name of the last chant you played? -Was it taken from some oratorio, or was it your own improvisation?"</p> - -<p>"The last chant?" repeated Lorelie, with a pensive air. "Let me think? -What was it? Did it run like this?"</p> - -<p>And in a sweet silvery tone she trilled off a bar which Idris -immediately recognized as a part of the refrain that had been played by -her.</p> - -<p>"That is the 'Ravengar Funeral March,'" explained Lorelie. "Its origin -goes far back into the depths of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> dark ages, tradition affirming -that it is the composition of an ancient scald, and was first chanted -at the burial of the old Norse chieftain who founded the Ravengar -family. It has been the custom to play it at the funeral of every -Ravengar, though he would be a bold person who should say that the tune -has not undergone variations in its descent to our times. The unknown -minstrel with whom it originated was a genius, a mediæval Mozart. Could -you not fancy that you heard the tread of numerous feet in procession, -the clang of shield and spear, the groans of warriors, the plaintive -weeping of women?"</p> - -<p>"It certainly <i>was</i> a weird requiem; it moved me as no other piece of -music ever has."</p> - -<p>And then, absorbed in a new idea, Idris forgot for the moment the -presence of even Lorelie Rivière.</p> - -<p>"What are these Ravengars to me," he thought, "or am I to them, that -their Funeral Chant should produce in me such clairvoyant sensations?"</p> - -<p>This question was succeeded by another. How had Mademoiselle Rivière -become familiar with this requiem? As if in answer to his thoughts -Lorelie remarked:—</p> - -<p>"I heard Viscount Walden play it once in Venice: he gave it as a -specimen of the weird and uncanny in music. It so took my fancy that I -did not rest till I had obtained a copy of it."</p> - -<p>It was somewhat disquieting to learn that she had met Lord Walden -abroad, and that she was on terms of sufficient friendship to beg from -him a copy of music. Had this friendship changed into something deeper? -Was he to regard Lord Walden in the light of a rival? Had Mademoiselle -Rivière come to Ormsby in order to be near the viscount? In saving her -from being overwhelmed by the tide Idris had doubtless gained a high -place in her favour, but then gratitude is not love, and Ravenhall and -a coronet were powerful attractions.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Do you often play at St. Oswald's Church?" he asked, after an interval -of silence.</p> - -<p>"Yes. I find a charm in its 'dim religious light.'"</p> - -<p>"And the quietude of the place," said Idris, "is also favourable to the -study of mediæval historians—<i>Paulus Diaconus</i>, for example."</p> - -<p>"Ah! Mr. Breakspear," she said, "so it was <i>you</i> who carried off my -book from the organ-loft. I guessed as much when I went back, and found -it gone. You must not forget to return it, for I value it highly. Now, -confess, that you have wondered why I, a woman, should take to poring -over that old Lombard historian?"</p> - -<p>"Curiosity is not confined to the sex with whom it is supposed to have -originated," smiled Idris, "and I am willing to admit, mademoiselle, -that I <i>have</i> been puzzled. The book does not belong to the style of -literature usually patronized by ladies."</p> - -<p>"<i>Merci!</i> I regard that last remark as a compliment. Well, I will -explain the mystery, if you will promise to keep the matter a secret." -And upon Idris giving his assurance, she continued: "I am trying -to write a poetical play, a tragedy relating to the times of the -Italo-Lombard kings, and as I do not wish to commit anachronisms, it -behoves me to study the historical authorities in the original."</p> - -<p>"I understand," answered Idris, his opinion of Lorelie rising higher -than ever: besides being a musician and a Latin scholar, she was also a -poetess! "And what are you going to call your play?"</p> - -<p>"'The Fatal Skull,'" she replied. "You look surprised, Mr. Breakspear. -Is there already a play of that name?"</p> - -<p>"I have never heard of it."</p> - -<p>"Because one must not borrow another author's title, is it not so?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span></p> - -<p>"<i>The Fatal Skull!</i>" Idris could not but think it a curious coincidence -that Lorelie's drama should bear such a title, when he himself at this -time was much interested in a skull, to wit, that of Orm the Viking.</p> - -<p>"Why so weird a title, mademoiselle?"</p> - -<p>"Because it is appropriate to the leading incident in the piece: for -the play turns on the famous historic banquet at which the Lombard -Queen Rosamond was forced by her husband to drink from her father's -skull. So now you understand, Mr. Breakspear," she went on, "that -wherever the words 'Fatal Skull,' or the initials 'F. S.,' occur in the -margin of my book, they mean that there is something in the passage -thus marked capable of being worked into my drama."</p> - -<p>"And when do you intend to publish it?"</p> - -<p>"Not yet: perhaps never. I write, not for fame, but for my own -pleasure."</p> - -<p>"Do not say that, mademoiselle. If one has noble thoughts the world -will be the better for hearing them. I hope, therefore, to see the day -when your work will be published: nay, more, I hope to see it acted."</p> - -<p>"It is kind of you to say so," she murmured. The light of pleasure -in her eyes, and the colour mantling her cheek, so enhanced her -beauty that it was with difficulty the impulsive Idris could repress -the temptation of telling her of his love. But, even as he watched, -the look of pleasure faded from her face, and there succeeded the -melancholy air that he had previously noticed, an air that said almost -as plainly as words, "I am forgetting myself: it is not for me to be -glad."</p> - -<p>Yet the smile returned to her lip when Idris ventured upon a suggestion.</p> - -<p>"I see neither boat nor vessel within hail," he remarked, glancing over -the sea. "We have several hours yet before us. Now in the Christmas -tales, you know, when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> the stage-coach passengers are snowed up at -the country-inn, or the sea-voyagers wrecked on the lonely isle, they -always beguile the time by story-telling. It's the orthodox thing to -do. Suppose we imitate them."</p> - -<p>"A good idea! and," added Lorelie archly, "it becomes the mover of the -proposition to take the initiative."</p> - -<p>"Caught in the net I was preparing for another!" smiled Idris. "I was -hoping to hear you recite some portions of your play. But that will -come later. Well, mademoiselle, what shall my story be?"</p> - -<p>"You said a while ago that you have led a somewhat adventurous life, -and that you once took part in a battle. I call for some of your -adventures."</p> - -<p>"You flatter my vanity. A man's self is an insidious theme. The -<i>Apologia pro meâ vitâ</i> is rarely to be trusted, the author being -naturally prone to magnify his virtues, and minimize his faults. Always -receive the autobiography <i>cum grano salis</i>."</p> - -<p>"Very well," replied Lorelie, with a smile irresistible in its -witchery. "Begin your story, and I will supply the <i>granum salis</i> as -you proceed."</p> - -<p>Vain was it for Idris to protest. She was not to be deterred from her -purpose of hearing something of his personal history; and, accordingly, -after due reflection, he proceeded to relate some of his experiences in -the Græco-Turkish War of '97, in which he had taken a part, in common -with some other Englishmen of adventurous spirit.</p> - -<p>Idris was master of a certain natural eloquence, an eloquence very -effective in the case of an imaginative maiden. At any rate Lorelie -seemed to take a deep interest in his words. Never before had he seen -so attentive a listener. Her face, like water lit by the changing -rays of the sun, reflected all the varying expressions on his own -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span>countenance, as he passed from grave to gay, from scene to scene.</p> - -<p>A significant incident occurred during the telling of these -reminiscences.</p> - -<p>He was relating that on one occasion he had been entrusted by a Greek -commander with the task of conveying a secret dispatch to a village -beyond the enemy's lines. The ordinary route to this place ran -through a mountain-pass, which at that time was carefully guarded by -Bashi-Bazouks. Idris, therefore, determined to scale the face of an -almost perpendicular cliff, and passing, as it were, above the heads of -the watchers, come out in their rear. When he was three-fourths of the -way up the cliff his heart almost leaped into his mouth as he caught -a glimpse of a Bashi-Bazouk, dagger in hand, waiting for him at the -top. The shades of twilight were falling: to descend was impossible: to -go upward was to meet certain death: yet upward he continued to pull -himself, little by little, hoping that by some good fortune he might be -able to outwit the armed watcher. In graphic language he painted his -sensations as none could, save those only who have been in a position.</p> - -<p>At this point Lorelie's interest became intense, even painful. So -vivid was her realization of the scene that she seemed at that very -moment to see Idris before her, clinging feebly to the edge of the -cliff in the dusky gloom, with the savage enemy above him dealing the -death-stroke. She leaned forward in her seat with parted lips: then, -quite unconsciously, and all-forgetful of her sprained ankle, she half -rose with her arm extended as if to ward off the coming blow.</p> - -<p>"O, but you are <i>here</i>," she murmured, realizing her mistake. "How -absurd of me!" and, with a heightened colour, she sank back in -confusion.</p> - -<p>"Yes, I am here," replied Idris, his heart leaping with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> delight at -this proof of her interest in his welfare. "Near the summit of the -cliff was a narrow shelf of rock: on this ledge I lay down and waited, -with my revolver pointing to the night sky. I knew that my gentleman -would peep over again presently to mark my progress. He did. What the -kites left of him you'll find at the foot of the cliff."</p> - -<p>If pleasure at the death of a fellow-mortal be an anti-Christian -feeling, it must be confessed that Lorelie Rivière had little of the -Christian in her at that moment.</p> - -<p>Now that he had once entered upon his personal history, she would not -let him quit it, betraying such interest that Idris almost wondered -whether she had a secret motive in wishing to hear his biography.</p> - -<p>The most romantic part of his career, however, namely, that relating -to the runic ring and the quest for his father, he carefully reserved, -giving instead an account of his travels through Europe, and recalling -many a curious legend from "out-of-the-way" places.</p> - -<p>Long ere Lorelie was sated with these reminiscences the first stars -of night glimmered in the blue air above: and, that nothing might be -wanting to complete a romantic situation, the moon, rising in all -her glory from the depth of ocean, silvered with its radiance the -entrance of the cave. The light passed within bringing into relief the -statuesque pose of Lorelie's figure. It gleamed on her wealth of raven -hair, and hallowed her face with new and mystic beauty, as, with her -cheek pillowed on her hands, she sat attentive to Idris, drinking in -his words as the fabled Oriental bird is said to drink the moonbeams.</p> - -<p>So lovely and interested a listener might well have turned the head of -the frostiest hermit. What wonder, then, that the one thought in Idris' -mind at this moment was:—"O that this might last forever!"</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER IX</span> <span class="smaller">IDRIS MEETS A RIVAL</span></h2> - -<p>Observing a shiver on the part of Lorelie, due to the chilly air, Idris -rose to put into effect a plan that had suddenly occurred to him. -Charming as the situation was to himself, he had no wish to prolong it -at the expense of discomfort to his companion.</p> - -<p>"'Ye gods, I grow a talker.' I do wrong to sit here inactive. The -air is becoming cold. Since no boat has hove in sight it is time we -tried to attract one. Some of this timber, piled upon the rocks at the -entrance of our cave, and set alight, will 'contrive a double debt to -pay'—of giving warmth to yourself, and of serving as a signal-fire to -the coast-guard of Ormsby."</p> - -<p>Collecting a supply of logs and planks, Idris proceeded to form them -into a little pyramid upon the boulders outside the mouth of the -cavern. He applied a lighted match to the pile, and within a few -minutes a glorious bonfire was blazing upon the rock, challenging the -pale light of the moon, and flinging a ruddy glow over the breast of -the heaving waters around.</p> - -<p>"Now, Mademoiselle Rivière, if you will sit in this nook here, you will -be both sheltered from the wind and warmed by the fire."</p> - -<p>Lorelie accepted the suggestion: and, as her ankle was still painful, -she permitted Idris to assist her to the assigned spot, where she sat, -pleased with the cheerful warmth.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span></p> - -<p>"This blaze ought surely to be seen and understood as a signal of -distress," said Idris.</p> - -<p>As he stared at the distant moonlit cliff behind which the town of -Ormsby lay hidden, he suddenly became aware that Lorelie was speaking.</p> - -<p>"Idris! Idris!"</p> - -<p>He turned quickly with a curious feeling. Surely she was not addressing -him by his Christian name? Let his name sound ever so silvery as it -came from her lips, still, this mode of address in a friendship so -recently formed as theirs, was a familiarity which jarred upon him.</p> - -<p>"Idris! Idris!" she repeated.</p> - -<p>"Yes, <i>Mademoiselle</i> Rivière," he replied, with a cold and significant -emphasis upon the second word.</p> - -<p>But he found her eyes fixed, not upon him, but upon the flames. He -followed the direction of her gaze and beheld a surprising sight. -There, burning in the fire, was a thick piece of planking, and on the -part of it not yet consumed were five black-painted letters, forming in -their arrangement the word:—</p> - -<p>"<span class="smcap">I-d-r-i-s!</span>"</p> - -<p>His own name! Yes: there it was, plain to be seen on the plank, the -black characters shining out clearly through the yellow flame.</p> - -<p>Lorelie had simply been murmuring the word as it caught her eyes, -without any intention of addressing him by it.</p> - -<p>How came his name to be inscribed on this piece of timber? If the -materials composing the fire were driftwood picked up from the beach -(and he did not doubt that such was the origin of the timber in the -cave), then this plank was probably a relic of a sunken vessel, the -word <i>Idris</i> forming its name.</p> - -<p>Was there any connection between himself and this lost barque other -than mere identity of name?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p> - -<p>His active mind, eager to give an affirmative to this question, -immediately devised a theory. Captain Rochefort, on flying from -Brittany with Eric Marville, would be compelled by considerations of -safety either to disguise and rename the yacht in which the flight had -been effected, or, what was more probable, dispose of the <i>Nemesis</i> -in some way, and purchase another vessel. That Captain Rochefort had -so acted, naming his new barque after the son of his escaped friend, -became Idris' firm conviction: for, lost to reason in his excitement, -he overlooked the possibility that other yacht-owners might have a -partiality for the same name.</p> - -<p>The plank now burning before his eyes had come from the figure-head of -the yacht in which his father and Captain Rochefort had cruised about, -after disposing of the <i>Nemesis</i>.</p> - -<p>What more likely than that, on discovering the meaning of the Norse -runes (a copy of which had been made by Rochefort while the altar-ring -was in his possession), the two friends, in a spirit of adventure, -should steer their yacht's course to Ormsby, the site of the supposed -treasure? And here off this coast their vessel had foundered.</p> - -<p>This conclusion, if correct, would seem almost to justify the idea that -it was impossible to escape from the malign influence of Odin's ring.</p> - -<p>Desire for its possession had led Eric Marville into a mischance that -had doomed him to a prison-life: he had escaped from the convict's -cell, and had wrested the secret from the runic ring, only to meet with -a watery grave in sight of the very treasure-hill that he had come to -explore!</p> - -<p>But, stay! had Eric Marville and Captain Rochefort perished in the -fierce currents of Ormsby Race, or had one, or both, been washed ashore -alive? Was the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> removal of the Viking's treasure due to one of them, or -to the joint action of the two?</p> - -<p>So occupied was Idris with these thoughts that he had almost forgotten -the presence of Lorelie, but now, on glancing at her, he noticed that -her face wore a grave, not to say startled, expression, obviously due -to the name that had been so strangely presented to her view. The -discovery seemed to disquiet her as much as it disquieted himself.</p> - -<p>Then in a moment it occurred to him that the dead in Saint Oswald's -Churchyard, whose grave she was decking with a marble cross, were men -who had perished in the sinking of this same vessel, <i>The Idris</i>. -Lorelie could explain the mystery, if she chose. He resolved to -question her.</p> - -<p>"Mademoiselle Rivière," he began, in an earnest tone, "I believe it is -within your power to throw some light upon a matter that, to me, is -one almost of life and death. Pardon me, if I presume too much on our -very recent friendship. To come to the point, I beg, nay, I entreat of -you, to tell me all you know concerning the vessel whose timbers we see -burning before us, the yacht <i>Idris</i>, that went down in Ormsby Race on -the night of the thirteenth of October, 1876."</p> - -<p>Swift surprise stole over Lorelie's face.</p> - -<p>"And why should you think that <i>I</i> know anything of that lost vessel?"</p> - -<p>"Ah! mademoiselle, you are not erecting a costly memorial over the -grave of men of whom you know nothing."</p> - -<p>Lorelie was silent for a few moments, as if reflecting how to answer an -obviously embarrassing question.</p> - -<p>"It is true," she said at last. "I will admit that I <i>do</i> know -something of that lost vessel, and that I have taken a deep interest in -it."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p> - -<p>"The vessel carried some one dear to you?"</p> - -<p>"Really, Mr. Breakspear, you are very curious," she cried, with a flash -of her bright eyes. "Before answering I must know the motive for this -catechism."</p> - -<p>"I have reason to believe," answered Idris, "that there was on board -one, Eric Marville by name."</p> - -<p>"And what," asked Lorelie—and at the chilling fall in her voice -Idris started—"what is Eric Marville to you, that you should take an -interest in his fate?"</p> - -<p>For a moment Idris hesitated, loth to tell the woman whom he loved that -he was the son of a fugitive convict. Then he resolved to be frank, -believing that if she were a true woman she would not despise him for a -misfortune not of his own causing.</p> - -<p>"Eric Marville," he answered humbly, "is my father's name."</p> - -<p>At these words Lorelie Rivière shrank back in the Hermit's Seat, -staring at Idris, her face white, her hand lifted to her side.</p> - -<p>"Your father?" she gasped. "You Eric Marville's son—<i>you</i>?"</p> - -<p>"The same, mademoiselle."</p> - -<p>"No, no. It cannot be. You have said that your name is Breakspear."</p> - -<p>"For obvious reasons I have thought proper to assume my mother's maiden -name."</p> - -<p>"Eric Marville's son!" she repeated wildly. "Impossible! I will not -believe it." Her wildness suddenly gave way to an air of disdain, and -she exclaimed: "Why do you seek to impose upon me? Idris Marville was -burned to death at Paris seven years ago."</p> - -<p>"Not so," replied Idris, with a smile, as he proceeded to give his -reasons for permitting himself to be advertised as dead.</p> - -<p>As Lorelie became gradually convinced of his identity<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> a look of dismay -came over her face. She shrank from him, and glanced down upon the sea, -as if tempted to plunge beneath its surface.</p> - -<p>"To think that you, you of all persons," she murmured in a tone of awe, -"should have saved my life!"</p> - -<p>"Then by that fact, mademoiselle, I entreat you to tell me whether my -father perished in that shipwreck. You doubtless know something of his -sad history?"</p> - -<p>"I ought to know," she returned, "seeing that my real name is Lorelie -Rochefort."</p> - -<p>"What do you say?" cried Idris in amazement. "You are the daughter of -Captain Noel Rochefort?"</p> - -<p>She inclined her head in assent.</p> - -<p>"Then we shall be the best of friends, as our fathers were before us."</p> - -<p>"You speak without knowledge," she replied, with a curious dry laugh.</p> - -<p>"Did not Captain Rochefort prove his friendship by aiding my father to -escape?"</p> - -<p>"At my mother's urging: he would not otherwise have moved in the -matter."</p> - -<p>"Why was Madame Rochefort so anxious to see my father free?"</p> - -<p>"You must not ask me that," replied Lorelie quickly, and looking -alarmed the moment afterwards, as if betrayed into a rash statement.</p> - -<p>This was certainly a strange answer, and Idris pondered over it in the -silence that followed. There seemed no other explanation of her words -than that there had existed a guilty love-intrigue between Madame -Rochefort and Eric Marville. Was it possible that Lorelie herself was -the offspring of——? With a shiver he put the suspicion aside. No: he -would not think <i>that</i>!</p> - -<p>"Is Captain Rochefort still living?"</p> - -<p>"It is extremely unlikely."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p> - -<p>"He went down with the yacht <i>Idris</i>?"</p> - -<p>"In all probability."</p> - -<p>"He was not among the bodies washed ashore?"</p> - -<p>"They were bruised and swollen beyond recognition."</p> - -<p>"Was my father on board the yacht the night it sank?"</p> - -<p>"So far as I have been able to gather he was not."</p> - -<p>"Not?" said Idris, in a tone of joy. "Then he may still be living. May -I ask, mademoiselle, how you have learned this?"</p> - -<p>"From my father's last letter to my mother, with whom he kept up a -correspondence during his cruise. The letter is dated 'The yacht -<i>Idris</i>. In Ormsby Roads, October 13th, 1876. 7 <span class="smaller">P. M.</span>,' and -the postscript is something to this effect, 'Marville is going ashore, -leaving me aboard. He will not return till the morrow. I am despatching -this letter to the post by the sailor who rows Marville ashore.' Those -are the last words my mother received. That same night, four hours -after the letter was written, the <i>Idris</i> went down."</p> - -<p>"And you cannot tell me whether my father is living to-day?"</p> - -<p>"I know nothing more of Eric Marville since the night of the wreck."</p> - -<p>"You have preserved all your father's letters?"</p> - -<p>"Naturally."</p> - -<p>Idris here ventured on a very bold request.</p> - -<p>"Would it be asking too much to let me see this correspondence, or at -least, some part of it?"</p> - -<p>"Not if you were to give me a diamond for each word it contained," she -said firmly.</p> - -<p>"At least, mademoiselle," he continued more humbly, "you will give me -the purport of those passages that relate to my father?"</p> - -<p>"That would be to compromise myself."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Whatever secrets those letters contain shall be respected by me."</p> - -<p>"Not so," said Lorelie sadly. "Mr. Breakspear, Idris Marville, or -whatever name you will, I believe you to be a man of honour——"</p> - -<p>"Then why not trust me?"</p> - -<p>"Because you would consider yourself justified in breaking your pledge -of secrecy. I dare not trust you. No oath could be binding in such a -case as this. You would proclaim aloud to the world the contents of -those letters."</p> - -<p>In spite of her words, Idris, with justifiable curiosity, continued to -press her with questions relative to his father's movements after the -flight from Quilaix, but to all his interrogations Lorelie remained -coldly mute.</p> - -<p>"And you will tell me nothing more than you have told?" he said at last.</p> - -<p>His sorrowful tone seemed to touch her to the quick. The icy expression -faded from her face and gave way to one of warmth and tenderness. Her -eyes became luminous with tears, but, as if desirous of resisting his -pleading, she averted her head and hid her face in her hands.</p> - -<p>"Do not question me further," she entreated. "Not to answer is painful, -but to answer would be more painful still. O, why did you reveal -your true name? I shall never be happy again. If I had but known you -twelve months ago, all would have been well, but now—now it is too -late. In revealing what you wish, nay, what you ought to know, I -should be injuring the interests of, not myself, for that would matter -little, but the interests of others. You do not understand—how should -you?—but some day you will learn my meaning, and then—and then——" -her voice faltered, "how the world will despise me! you more than all -others.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> Mr. Breakspear, if you knew my real character you would have -left me lying on the sand to be overwhelmed by the tide. I would that -you had!"</p> - -<p>Though Idris knew not what meaning to affix to this speech, it did not -abate in one degree his love for her: nay, her very air of humiliation, -plaintive and touching, served only to enhance her attractiveness. When -he recalled the heroic look upon her face in the presence of death, and -the clasping of her hands in prayer upon her deliverance, he could not -bring himself to think ill of her. Her mysterious self-accusations must -be the result of some delusion: or, if something <i>did</i> attach to her -that the world would call guilt, he did not doubt that justification -would be found for it.</p> - -<p>"Mademoiselle," he replied, with a grave smile, "you seem to regard -me in the light of an enemy, when my chief desire is to occupy a high -place in your friendship." He would have said "heart" had he dared. -"Since the subject of the yacht is painful to you, I will not refer to -it again in your presence."</p> - -<p>"Then my reticence will not make an enemy of you?" asked Lorelie, -raising her beautiful eyes with a yearning in them that moved him -strangely.</p> - -<p>"Certainly not, mademoiselle. Let me know that you do not despise me on -account of my father's guilt, or supposed guilt, and I am content."</p> - -<p>"Despise you? Oh, no! How can you say that? Mr. Breakspear," she -continued, with a faltering voice, "if—if there be one circumstance -more than another that enlists my sympathies in your behalf, it -is—the—the event of which you speak."</p> - -<p>The pitying look in her eyes caused Idris' blood to course like liquid -fire through his veins. Had she been the guiltiest woman living that -glance would have palliated all and have made him her slave forever.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p> - -<p>There is no knowing what he might have said or done at this moment had -he not been checked by a sudden exclamation from her. Looking in the -direction indicated by her he saw a boat rowed by seven of the Ormsby -fishermen coming over the waves towards them in gallant style.</p> - -<p>"Our imprisonment is drawing to an end," said Idris, adding to himself, -"the more's the pity."</p> - -<p>The sight of the approaching boat seemed to put an end to Lorelie's -emotion. She began to regain something of her former sweet self.</p> - -<p>By her own unaided efforts she rose to her feet, and leaning against -the rock, waved her handkerchief as an encouragement to the rowers. A -cheer broke from the men as soon as they recognized her; for, by reason -of her liberality to the poor of Ormsby, Mademoiselle Rivière had -become, at least among the lower orders of the town, a favourite second -only to Beatrice Ravengar herself.</p> - -<p>Ere long the boat's side grated against the rock, and Lorelie, assisted -by Idris on the one hand, and by a gallant fisherman on the other, was -lifted down from point to point, and finally lodged in the bow of the -rocking boat, Idris taking his seat beside her.</p> - -<p>The still-flaming timbers of the fire having been extinguished by the -easy process of tossing them into the sea, the men pushed off, and the -Hermit's Cave rapidly receded from view.</p> - -<p>In answer to the questioning of her rescuers Lorelie gave an account of -the circumstances which had led to the enforced captivity of herself -and Idris, adding:—</p> - -<p>"We owe you something more substantial than thanks for responding so -quickly to our fire-signal."</p> - -<p>"Lord bless you!" responded one of the crew gallantly, "to rescue such -a bonny bird we would row fifty miles."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p> - -<p>They created quite a sensation as they drew near the beach of Ormsby, -where a miscellaneous crowd was assembled; for the news had been spread -abroad by Lorelie's frightened maid that her mistress had been missing -since the morning, and, accordingly, it had been conjectured that the -strange light visible at the foot of the distant cliff might have -some connection with her disappearance. And when it was seen that the -approaching boat contained the missing lady there arose an outburst of -cheering and a waving of hats, that drew the colour to her hitherto -pale cheek.</p> - -<p>Among the first to meet the boat at the water's edge was Godfrey; and -on learning that Lorelie had hurt her foot, nothing less would satisfy -him than an immediate inspection of her ankle.</p> - -<p>"The case may be more serious than you think it," said he.</p> - -<p>So Lorelie, escorted by Idris and Godfrey, repaired, under smiling -protest, to the parlour of a cottage fronting the beach, where, after -due examination, the surgeon pronounced the injury to be nothing more -serious than a sprain.</p> - -<p>"Still, you must not set your foot to the ground just yet," he added. -"We will procure a carriage to take you home."</p> - -<p>Scarcely had he said this when the rattle of wheels was heard outside. -A vehicle of some sort had drawn up in front of the cottage. A minute -afterwards the parlour door opened giving entrance to Viscount Walden.</p> - -<p>His acknowledgment of the surgeon was limited to, "Ah! Godfrey:" of -Idris he took no notice at all. Walking up to Lorelie he smiled in a -manner which showed that they were no strangers to each other, and -Godfrey, recalling the viscount's utterances in the crypt of Ravenhall, -"I hope Lorelie will be satisfied," looked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> on at their meeting with -considerable interest, wondering whether there really were some guilty -secret between them.</p> - -<p>"Mademoiselle Rivière, I am delighted to meet you in England," said -Ivar. "Passing along the road outside and observing the crowd in front -of this cottage I stopped my carriage to ascertain the cause. Imagine -my surprise on learning that <i>you</i> were within. Welcome to Ormsby! You -find our climate a little trying, I expect, after the sunny air and the -blue skies of the Riviera? You have sprained your ankle, I understand, -and find a difficulty in walking. If you desire a carriage to convey -you home, mine is at your service."</p> - -<p>Ivar's proposal to carry off Lorelie in his own carriage roused all -Idris' jealousy, of which he had the ordinary mortal's share. It was -not very agreeable to hear Lorelie assenting, and to observe that she -smiled upon Ivar as pleasantly as she had smiled upon himself.</p> - -<p>With a motion of her hand she directed the viscount's attention to -Idris.</p> - -<p>"Lord Walden, Mr.——"</p> - -<p>"Breakspear," interposed Idris quickly, fearing lest she should -inadvertently pronounce the name of Marville.</p> - -<p>Lorelie gave him a sympathetic glance, which assured him that his -secret was quite safe in her keeping.</p> - -<p>"Lord Walden," she continued, "Mr. Breakspear, a gentleman to whom I -owe my life."</p> - -<p>In some surprise Ivar turned to survey the saviour of Mademoiselle -Rivière, and beheld a man of about thirty years, with fine dark eyes -and an athletic figure—a man evidently of good birth; his countenance -expressive of a spirit that showed if he should set his mind upon -accomplishing an object, say of winning a woman's love, he would -succeed, or make it go extremely ill with those who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> endeavoured to -thwart him: and, noting all this, Ivar, who was of a mean nature, took -secret umbrage.</p> - -<p>Idris was about to offer his hand, but observing that the viscount was -stiffly bowing with his hands behind him, he thought he could not do -better than imitate the other's example.</p> - -<p>For a moment the two men eyed each other, both apparently animated by a -spirit of defiance, the cause of which was patent enough to Godfrey in -the person of the charming woman sitting between them.</p> - -<p>Idris, mindful of the fact that he was the son of an escaped convict, -while Ivar was the descendant of a line of belted earls, felt bitterly -the contrast between their respective positions.</p> - -<p>"How this fellow would sneer, if he knew the truth!" was his thought.</p> - -<p>"Lord save us!" the woman, who owned the cottage, whispered to Godfrey. -"How like they are! The same proud face upon each!"</p> - -<p>The surgeon glanced from one to the other, and was compelled to admit -that there certainly <i>was</i> a resemblance in features between the two -men, a resemblance which would have been the stronger, had not Idris -been dark, and Ivar fair.</p> - -<p>While Lorelie gave a brief account of her rescue, Ivar listened with -impatience, evidently of opinion that Fortune, while permitting Idris -to save Mademoiselle Rivière, might at least have had the good sense to -drown him afterwards.</p> - -<p>"At the next Parish Council," said Lorelie to Godfrey, "you must call -attention to the 'Stairs of David.'"</p> - -<p>"The ladder ought certainly to be seen to," said Idris, "but for my -part, mademoiselle," he added, bowing to Lorelie, "I shall never regret -the instability of that structure."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p> - -<p>Ivar, who had refrained from speech both during Lorelie's story and at -its close, now offered his arm to help her to the carriage. A shade of -vexation passed over her face at the viscount's obvious indifference to -Idris' services on her behalf.</p> - -<p>"My ankle is still weak," she said, turning to Idris. "Mr. Breakspear, -may I ask for your help, too?"</p> - -<p>Idris responded with a cheerfulness that became the more cheerful as he -noticed Ivar's scowl.</p> - -<p>Thus escorted Lorelie passed into the moonlit air without, and reached -the brougham. Idris held the door while she stepped in. The viscount -followed, shutting the door with a loud slam, that said as plainly as -words, "No more shall enter here."</p> - -<p>Lorelie looked more vexed than ever at this discourtesy towards Godfrey -and Idris: but as the carriage was not hers it was out of her power to -offer them a seat.</p> - -<p>However, as if desirous of sweetening the parting, she extended her -little hand through the carriage-window, accompanying her action with a -gracious smile.</p> - -<p>"Good-night, Mr. Breakspear," she murmured, softly. "I shall never -forget the debt I owe you."</p> - -<p>"Drive on," cried Ivar, brusquely, to the coachman. "The Cedars, North -Road."</p> - -<p>The horses dashed off, and as the brougham turned the corner of the -road, Idris caught a glimpse of Lorelie, bending forward at the -carriage-window, with her face turned in his direction.</p> - -<p>He lifted his hat, and the next moment she was lost to view.</p> - -<p>"Idris," said Godfrey, "you love that young lady."</p> - -<p>"And you must have a heart of stone not to love her, too."</p> - -<p>"Humph! it would be rather awkward if all men were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> to desire the same -woman. Isn't one rival enough for you?"</p> - -<p>Truth to tell, Idris had been much disquieted by the readiness with -which Lorelie had surrendered herself to the will of Viscount Walden. -It seemed almost as if some secret understanding existed between them. -Godfrey, though he refrained from saying so, had no doubt whatever on -the point.</p> - -<p>"All things being equal," he continued, "I believe the lady would -favour you: but, you see, a prospective coronet is a very powerful -attraction, and I fear the coronet will gain the day."</p> - -<p>Idris repudiated this forecast, vigorously anathematizing the name of -Viscount Walden, after which his thoughts turned to a theme, almost -equal in interest to his love for Lorelie, namely, his father's fate.</p> - -<p>"He was not on the yacht when it sank, so Mademoiselle Rivière -declares: then what became of him? I did right to come to Ormsby, it -seems, since it was in this neighbourhood that he was last heard of. -But, alas! that was twenty-two years ago. Is he living to-day, and -shall I ever find him?"</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER X</span> <span class="smaller">A LITTLE PIECE OF STEEL</span></h2> - -<p>The clock was striking the hour of ten at night as Beatrice Ravengar -rose to put away the embroidery with which she had been occupied.</p> - -<p>Save for the companionship of her faithful St. Bernard she was alone. -Godfrey was out visiting his patients. Idris had been absent since -noon, and Beatrice wondered what had become of him, little thinking -that he was passing his time in a moonlit cave, <i>tête-à-tête</i> with -Mademoiselle Rivière. The page-boy, who was accustomed to sleep at his -own home, had taken his departure: and as for the housemaid, well, -every one knows that when housemaids promise to be home punctually by -nine <span class="smaller">P. M.</span>, they mean any time up to eleven, and Beatrice's -little domestic was no exception to this rule.</p> - -<p>Methodical in all her ways Beatrice was in the habit of mapping out -beforehand a certain amount of work to be done during the day. Her -self-allotted tasks being now completed she was ready for bed, but -could not think of retiring before the return of the absentees.</p> - -<p>With a little yawn she wondered what she should do to fill up the gap -of time, and seeing a book lying upon the table, one that Idris had -been reading earlier in the day, she took it up and found it to be a -novel.</p> - -<p>Beatrice as a rule avoided fiction, but on the present occasion she -felt herself unequal to anything but the lightest kind of literary -confectionery, and, accordingly, settling herself comfortably in her -armchair, she began to read the novel, which bore the title of "<i>The -Fair Orientalist</i>."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> It was of the nightmare order, and dealt with the -doings of an Eastern lady, gifted with occult powers.</p> - -<p>After the first chapter Beatrice glanced down to make sure that the -faithful Leo was lying at her feet: when reading a story of the -supernatural at night it is good to have a companion with us, though -that companion be but a dog.</p> - -<p>Having finished the second chapter she threw a glance at the windows, -and was glad to observe that the blinds were drawn, since at night-time -panes of glass are sometimes apt to reflect the gaslight in such a way -as to create the impression that there are eyes on the outside watching -us.</p> - -<p>At the end of the third chapter Beatrice had become positively alarmed -at the clairvoyance and occult powers ascribed to the Oriental lady: -and yet, so fascinated was she by the story that, despite her growing -fears, she found it impossible to lay down the book.</p> - -<p>Hark! what was that?</p> - -<p>A sound, coming apparently from the upper storey, echoed through -the lonely house. With a beating heart Beatrice ceased reading, and -listened. The sound was repeated, and she smiled at her fears. The -latticed window at the head of the staircase was open, and flapping -idly on its hinges. That was all!</p> - -<p>This thought, however, was quickly followed by another that revived her -uneasiness. Since the casement had been ajar all the evening why had it -not flapped before?</p> - -<p>"The wind must be rising," thought Beatrice: and with this reasonable -explanation she resumed her reading.</p> - -<p>O, that window!</p> - -<p>It persisted in flapping to and fro at intervals, the irregularity of -which was the most annoying part of the matter.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p> - -<p>Sometimes the sound was so faint as to be scarcely audible: then, -after a lapse of silence so long as to promise that the torment had -altogether ceased, the casement would give a rattle louder than ever, -and more startling by contrast with the previous stillness. A little -more force on the part of the wind would result in the shattering of -those diamond panes.</p> - -<p>"I must go up and shut it!"</p> - -<p>Sensible resolve! But it was not carried out. The incident, trifling -though it was, combined with the effect of the novel, had reduced -her to a state of nervousness so great that she durst not ascend the -staircase to close the window. Despising herself for her cowardice she -remained in her armchair, neglecting the only effectual way of ending -the annoyance.</p> - -<p>She glanced again at the dog, and derived some assurance from his quiet -air. Though wideawake he did not display any signs of alarm.</p> - -<p>"One advantage brute creatures have over the human," thought she. -"<i>They</i> never frighten themselves with ghostly fears."</p> - -<p>She again fixed her eyes upon the book, endeavouring to ignore the real -terror by a forced attention to an imaginary one, a literary homæopathy -that was scarcely likely to be successful.</p> - -<p>One of the powers possessed by the Fair Orientalist was that of enduing -inanimate objects with her own magnetism by virtue of which they became -gifted for the time being with sentience and motion.</p> - -<p>The fancy now seized Beatrice, so deeply had she fallen under the spell -of the weird romance, that the restless casement above was moved by -similar means, and that its flapping was designed to call her attention -to—she knew not what. A strange idea! But it grew upon her, and -increased till it filled her mind to the exclusion<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> of everything else. -The book, neglected, slid from her knees, and she sat listening to the -swinging of the casement. And as it is possible to tell the mood of a -musician by the notes he plays, so Beatrice fancied she could detect a -meaning in each variation of sound.</p> - -<p>First, there was a sharp slam intended primarily to arrest attention, -like the ting-ting of the telegraph operator: next, a low plaintive -swing beseeching her to ascend the stairs and come to the rescue, -followed by a remonstratory flap censuring her for delaying. Then -ensued a slow solemn sound suggestive of the gravity of the situation: -finally, there came a loud rattle that echoed through the house as if -threatening penalties for her negligence.</p> - -<p>The geologist will read history in a cliff: Beatrice read a whole -tragedy in the varying tones of that casement.</p> - -<p>And now, a mysterious influence, emanating from the latticed window, -seemed to steal silently down the staircase like a ghost, and entering -the apartment where she sat and enwrapping her with an unseen pall of -horror, whispered a thought that swept all the warmth from her body and -left her icy-cold.</p> - -<p><i>The Viking's skull!</i></p> - -<p>At the head of the staircase, on the ledge of the embrasured window, -was the grim memorial, taken at midnight from the sepulchral mound. -Beatrice's mind became impressed with the belief that the casement -was flapping in sympathy with the skull, was its mouthpiece, so to -speak—nay more, that the dread relic itself was moaning to be taken -back to its ancient resting-place. Her quickening fancy drew a picture -of the skull, whispering, nodding, grinning, its hollow orbs illumined -with blue, phosphorescent light.</p> - -<p>Gazing fearfully at the door she saw that it was open.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> She must close -it ere the horrid object should come gliding down the staircase into -the room.</p> - -<p>Summoning up her small amount of remaining courage Beatrice rose, and -with timid, staccato steps, approached the door, attended by Leo. Mute -as a statue she stood in the attitude of listening, her fingers on the -door-handle.</p> - -<p>Was it the voice of the breeze sighing through the half-opened -casement, or was it the skull whispering and chuckling with ghostly -glee? She had but to step forward two paces to be within the corridor, -and by looking up the staircase would see the skull at its head.</p> - -<p>But this was more than she durst do. To her dismay Leo had walked out -of the room, and refused to return. She could not shut the door upon -the dog: in her present state of mind his presence was an absolute -necessity, and yet, to venture out into the passage to bring him back, -and by so doing come within sight of the skull, was a feat beyond her -courage.</p> - -<p>The corridor-lamp had not been lighted. The glory of the full moon -shone on the staircase window at such an angle that the outline of the -casement was projected upon the floor of the passage directly within -view of the door at which she was standing. She could not avoid seeing -the oblong patch of spectral white. But that shadow in the centre like -a human head, black and still as if nailed to the flooring! It was the -silhouette of the skull!</p> - -<p>Trembling, she averted her eyes from the shadow, and fortunately at -that moment Leo, having decided that the room was more comfortable than -the corridor, reentered the apartment, and Beatrice instantly closed -the door and turned the key, feeling more at ease now that an inch of -oak interposed between herself and the object at the stair head.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span></p> - -<p>But now came another terror!</p> - -<p>Leo had taken his place on the hearth-rug where he remained quiet for -a few minutes. Then, suddenly, he began to grow restive. Giving a low -growl he started to his feet, and after looking about on all sides -began to walk round the room, sniffing suspiciously at the floor, as if -he expected danger from the cellar below rather than from the staircase -above.</p> - -<p>His investigations concluded, the poor brute sat down on his haunches, -and lifting up his head gave utterance to one long and plaintive howl. -And if ever dog uttered prophecy Leo uttered it at that moment, and the -tenor of his prediction was that some dire peril was at hand.</p> - -<p>Beatrice, who had followed the animal from one part of the room to -another, repeating "Leo, Leo, what's the matter?" as if he were capable -of speech, knelt by his side and found him quivering in every limb, his -hair bristling as if with fear.</p> - -<p>Hark!</p> - -<p>A gust of wind, more forcible than any that had preceded it, slammed -the staircase window with a loud bang, shivering its diamond panes: -and—more alarming still!—this accident was accompanied by a sound -like the fall of some light object.</p> - -<p>Beatrice doubted not for a moment that the skull had dropped from the -ledge and was now coming down the staircase.</p> - -<p>Nor did she err. A second bump told her that the thing had rolled over -one stair. A third fall ensued, and then a fourth. These sounds did not -follow instantaneously one upon another, but there was between each a -distinct pause, suggestive of the idea that the skull was endowed with -a volition and a motion of its own: as if, in fact, it were choosing -its way, and descending at leisure.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p> - -<p>Awaiting the issue Beatrice sat, the very picture of terror, her hands -clasped, her dilated eyes riveted on the door of the apartment. It -seemed many minutes since the skull had begun its descent, though, -perhaps, fifteen seconds had scarcely elapsed. Finally, the lowest -stair was reached, and the skull, pitching forward, rolled up to the -door of the apartment, as if seeking admittance.</p> - -<p>At its dread knock the walls and floor of the room seemed to -tremble. The lights in the gasalier went out, leaving the chamber in -semi-darkness. The dying embers of the fire, flickering strangely and -unsteadily, caused weird shapes to spring up from floor to ceiling.</p> - -<p>At the same time a vibratory motion was communicated to Beatrice's -person. She found herself oscillating to and fro, unable to check -herself. A mysterious power grasped her ankles with unseen fingers and -strove to elevate her in air.</p> - -<p>Fully believing that her last hour had come Beatrice gave one long -pealing cry, in which the terrified yelp of the dog mingled. She was -shot violently forward: a noise like the rattle produced by a thousand -falling plates rang in her ears, and tumbling headlong to the carpet -she lost all consciousness.</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * *</p> - -<p>When Beatrice next opened her eyes she found herself lying on the sofa -with three persons standing beside her: Godfrey was sprinkling her -face and throat with cold water: the housemaid was applying a bottle -of strong salts to her nostrils: and Idris was holding a candle, the -feeble light of which he strove to steady by shielding it with his -hand. The windows and door were wide open, and the cool night air was -blowing through the room, laden with a faint odour of escaped gas.</p> - -<p>Beatrice gave a feeble smile of recognition, and then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> gazed vacantly -around the apartment, unable at first to recall what had preceded the -present state of affairs.</p> - -<p>The room presented a scene of confusion. All the pictures hung awry: -the ornaments of the mantel had fallen, and lay, some shattered to -pieces, within the fireplace: fragments of one of the gasalier globes -starred the carpet: the doors of the bookcase were open, and many of -the volumes had been projected from their shelves to the floor. On the -table was the Viking's skull, the cause, in some mysterious way, of all -this disorder; at least, such was Beatrice's opinion.</p> - -<p>"I have been horribly frightened!" she said, as soon as she had -recovered the use of speech.</p> - -<p>"And well you might be!" replied Idris. "Godfrey and I had just reached -the door, when the house shook to its foundations, and out went all the -lights. By heaven! I thought the place was coming down. We have had an -earthquake shock."</p> - -<p>But the imaginative mind of Beatrice, still under the spell of -"<i>The Fair Orientalist</i>," was not prepared to accept this rational -explanation.</p> - -<p>"Earthquakes don't happen in England," she declared.</p> - -<p>"Slight shocks occasionally occur here," said Idris, "and the -present one is a case in point. Why," he added, observing Beatrice's -dissentient shake of her head, "what else could it have been?"</p> - -<p>"I cannot say," she answered, shivering, and glancing at the Viking's -skull. "But this much I know, that long before the house shook and the -gas went out, I was frightened by strange sounds coming from the head -of the staircase where the skull was, and so—and so——"</p> - -<p>And here Beatrice paused, not knowing how to express to others that -which was not very clear to herself.</p> - -<p>"And so you began to think that the skull was talking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> and threatening -you with mystic oracles? Fie, Trixie," said her brother, reprovingly. -"I did not think you could be so foolish."</p> - -<p>But perceiving that it would be useless at this juncture to try to -reason her out of her belief, such process being best reserved for -the sober light of morning, Godfrey turned to give some orders to the -housemaid.</p> - -<p>"Ha!" exclaimed Idris, picking up the novel from the floor, "so -you have been reading this? Then I don't wonder that you have been -frightened. '<i>The Fair Orientalist</i>' is not a book to be read at night -in a lonely house."</p> - -<p>"I will not deny that the book frightened me, but what was it that -frightened Leo? <i>He</i> cannot read ghost-stories, and yet he howled -piteously."</p> - -<p>"Probably with that prevision instinctive in the brute race he -discerned the coming of this catastrophe."</p> - -<p>Beatrice, having now recovered herself, proposed a tour of the house -with a view of ascertaining how much damage had been done.</p> - -<p>The walls did not exhibit any cracks or fissures, and apparently were -as sound as before, but on the floor of every room proofs of the recent -earth-tremor were evident in the shape of fallen articles.</p> - -<p>Breakage was especially triumphant in the kitchen.</p> - -<p>"Ah me!" sighed Beatrice, sorrowfully. "Good-bye to my new tea-service! -And my pretty majolica bread-plate gone, too! Nothing will convince -me that this is not the work of the Viking. When he was alive I have -no doubt that, being a heathen, he took a pleasure in slaying good -Christian folk: and now that he is dead he shows his malignity by -destroying their crockery-ware. A noble Viking, one would think, should -be above such meanness."</p> - -<p>On returning to the sitting-room Idris, for the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span>enlightenment of -Beatrice, began to relate his adventure with Mademoiselle Rivière; and, -as Beatrice listened, she became strangely disquieted by the incident. -Why should this be?</p> - -<p>But when Idris, in the course of his story, dwelt on the beauty of -Lorelie, and above all on the heroic light of her eyes when she bade -him leave her to save himself, Beatrice readily discerned by the -warmth of his tone how matters stood with him, and realizing this, -her agitation increased. Surprised, frightened, trembling, she found -herself borne along on the wild wave of her emotion to the certain -knowledge that her feelings towards Idris were not those of friendship -simply, but of love!</p> - -<p>And perceiving how deeply enthralled he was by the witchery of Lorelie -Rivière her mind became tortured with exquisite pain.</p> - -<p>Fearing that Idris and Godfrey might observe her emotion and divine -its cause, she seized a favourable moment to steal from the apartment, -without so little as a "Good-night," lest her voice should betray her.</p> - -<p>And on attaining her dainty bedroom she flung herself upon the bed and -gave way to emotion, despising herself as foolish, and yet unable to -check her tears.</p> - -<p>"If he but knew her true character!" she murmured: "If he but knew! But -it is not for me to tell him. He will—he must learn it in time. And -then—and then—perhaps—it may be—that——"</p> - -<p>But Beatrice put this hope from her as too delightful ever to be -realized.</p> - -<p>"Now to examine my noble Viking," said Idris, taking up the skull from -the table. "Let us see whether he has suffered any injury in his roll -down-stairs.—Hul-lo!"</p> - -<p>Shaking the skull as he spoke, his attention was arrested by a faint -rattle within it, a sound that he had not heard in his previous -handlings of the relic.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Listen, Godfrey!" he cried in a curious tone of voice, and shaking the -skull again. "What is this inside?"</p> - -<p>He stopped the motion to examine the skull more carefully. Strange that -till this moment he had not noticed that the occipital bone was pierced -by a tiny hole of circular shape!</p> - -<p>"Do you see this, Godfrey?" he said, pointing out the orifice. "This -could have been caused only by a sharp-pointed instrument. The thing -rattling within must be a fragment of some weapon."</p> - -<p>He gave the skull another shake, when, from the vertebral orifice there -dropped a piece of rusty steel about two inches in length, slender, -rounded, and tapering to a point.</p> - -<p>"No one could live with a thing like this in his head," said Idris. "So -it is clear that we have here a fragment of the identical weapon that -gave old Orm his <i>coup-de-grâce</i>."</p> - -<p>A tiny piece of steel publicly exposed, say in a shop-window, will -attract little, if any notice: but let it be known that the said steel -is the instrument with which a murder has been wrought, and a whole -city will come trooping forth to view: and fancy prices will be offered -for it by connoisseurs of the gruesome.</p> - -<p>Deep, therefore, was the interest with which the two friends viewed -their latest discovery.</p> - -<p>"Then this cannot be the skull of Orm the Viking," remarked Godfrey, -after a thoughtful pause, "if the tapestry we brought away from the -tomb is to be received as an authority, since that represents him as -slain by an arrow piercing his breast."</p> - -<p>This contradiction between the evidence presented by the skull and that -presented by the tapestry, perplexed Idris in no small degree. Having -conceived the somewhat pleasing notion that he was the possessor of -the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> skull of Orm the Golden, he was loth to relinquish his belief, and -prepared to argue the point.</p> - -<p>"Artists, whether in needlework or in oils, are not always to be -accepted as historic authorities. I have no doubt <i>suppressio veri</i> was -practised as much in the Viking age as in our own. If Orm died with a -wound in the occiput, what does that seem to show? That he must have -turned his back on his foes in defiance of the canons of Norse bravery. -Do you think that the weavers of the tapestry would let posterity know -that Orm had turned coward? No! therefore they make him die with an -arrow in his breast, facing the foe, bold to the last. The tumulus in -Ravensdale is certainly Orm's tomb: the name Ormfell and the tapestry -prove it, and hence the bones it contains must be those of Orm."</p> - -<p>"Hum! I'm not convinced," replied Godfrey. "You believe this steel to -be the fragment of a battle-weapon: of what kind of weapon? It is too -slender to have formed part of a sword or a dagger: too finely-pointed -to have been the barb of a lance or an arrow."</p> - -<p>"It may be a spike from that sort of mace which the Vikings in their -playful way were wont to call their 'Morning Star.' This is perhaps a -stellar ray."</p> - -<p>"Rather fragile for the spike of a mace, isn't it?"</p> - -<p>"True. I confess I am as much puzzled as yourself to name the weapon of -which this once formed part."</p> - -<p>For a long time Idris continued to puzzle over the question, polishing -the steel fragment till it gleamed with a silvery-azure light. He -suggested its connection with all kinds of impossible weapons, but -could come to no satisfactory conclusion. Then, vexed by Godfrey's -scepticism, he said:—</p> - -<p>"Well, old wiseacre, if this be not Orm's skull, tell me whose it is?"</p> - -<p>"Impossible to say—at present. My opinion is that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> it is not an -ancient skull at all, but a modern one. The future will perhaps show -whether I am right. As 'there's a Divinity that shapes' human affairs, -it may be that the earthquake of to-night has been sent for a purpose. -It has had the effect of loosening the fragment of steel hitherto -immovably fixed in the cavity of the skull. You will, perhaps, consider -me fanciful, Idris, but I have a presentiment that we are on the -threshold of a startling discovery to which this piece of steel forms a clue."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XI</span> <span class="smaller">THE LEGEND OF THE RUNIC RING</span></h2> - -<p>On the morning after his adventure on the seashore Idris went out with -the intention of calling upon Mademoiselle Rivière: and that he might -not lack reasonable pretext for his visit, he took with him the book -which she had asked him to return. Apart altogether from the charm -of her beauty Lorelie interested him, both as being the daughter of -Captain Rochefort, and likewise as the depositary of some strange -secret relating to his father's history. Though earnestly pressed by -Idris she had firmly declined to give any account of Eric Marville -from the time of his escape to the sinking of the yacht in Ormsby -Race. It was difficult to assign a motive for her refusal, but Idris -did not doubt that in course of time he would be able to overcome her -reticence: and therefore, if only on this account, Lorelie Rivière was -a person whose friendship it behoved him to cultivate.</p> - -<p>The way to her villa, The Cedars, took him past Saint Oswald's Church, -and moved by a sudden impulse, he turned aside to enter the edifice, -which in more than one sense was hallowed ground to him, inasmuch as it -was here that he had first met with Lorelie.</p> - -<p>Surely Eros was directing his steps! For, scarcely had he passed within -the porch of the Ravengar Chantry when his ear caught the soft rustle -of silk, and Mademoiselle Rivière herself was standing before him. She -had entered by another door, and the basket of flowers hanging from her -arm seemed to indicate that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> her object in visiting the church was to -deck its altar. Dressed in a graceful costume of black and silver that -harmonized exquisitely with her delicate complexion she looked more -beautiful and witching than ever in Idris' eyes, as with a bright smile -she extended her hand.</p> - -<p>"And your sprained ankle?" he asked, when their first greetings were -over.</p> - -<p>"Is not my presence here a satisfactory answer to that question?" she -smiled.</p> - -<p>"May I ask for a flower in exchange, mademoiselle?" said Idris, as he -returned the book to her.</p> - -<p>"Here is variety to choose from. Let me learn your favourite."</p> - -<p>She held out the basket for Idris to make his choice.</p> - -<p>"You are taking nothing but forget-me-nots," she cried.</p> - -<p>"I am in a parabolical mood, you see. The name of this flower expresses -what my lips would say."</p> - -<p>"And thereby you accuse me of ingratitude."</p> - -<p>"How so?"</p> - -<p>"By suggesting the possibility of my forgetting one who has saved my -life," replied Lorelie, the colour stealing over her cheek. She raised -her eyes to his with an expression in them that thrilled him, and -continued, "Shall I tell you the dream I had last night? I thought -I was still lying on those sands where I fell, unable to move. The -rising tide came on and rippled around me, striking a chill through my -clothing. At last the water was so high that it flowed over my face, -filling my mouth and nostrils. I fought with it, but it ascended higher -and ever higher above me, till I was deep down below the surface.</p> - -<p>"And the curious part of it all was that I still lived. I lay there as -in a trance, motionless, staring upwards. I could see the air-bubbles -of my breath ascending to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> surface. The moon with tremulous -motion shone through the glassy water, looking—oh! ever so far away. -The sea-weed drifted around and clung to my cheek and hair. Curious -sea-monsters came and looked at me, then went away again: shell-fish -crawled over me, and all night long the restless water flowed over my -face and plashed in and out of my mouth. Its faint murmur rings in my -ears still. In the morning I awoke and found it a dream. Then I said to -myself, 'This is what would have happened if—if no one had been near -to aid me.'"</p> - -<p>"It is past now," replied Idris, observing her shiver. "Don't think any -more about it."</p> - -<p>"The peril is past, but the memory of it remains. Ah, that dream! If -it should occur again to-night I shall begin to be like Richard III, -and tremble at the thought of sleep. Shall I put those flowers in your -coat, Mr. Breakspear? You seem to find it a difficulty."</p> - -<p>Idris readily accepted her proffered aid.</p> - -<p>"Forget-me-not," she murmured, fastening the nosegay to his -button-hole; and Idris wondered whether the words were addressed to -him, or whether she was simply repeating the name of the flower: the -latter it seemed by her next remark. "Why should our French <i>myosotis</i> -be called in English, 'Forget-me-not'? Can you tell me the origin of -the name?"</p> - -<p>Idris could, and did: relating the somewhat apocryphal story of the -youth, who, in wading to the opposite bank of a river with a view of -procuring some flowers for his sweetheart, was swept off by the current -and drowned, but not before he had had time to fling the flowers at her -feet with the parting cry of "Forget-me-not!"</p> - -<p>"The moral of which is," added Idris, "learn to swim."</p> - -<p>"You are spoiling a pretty story by your cynicism,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> said Lorelie. "His -love was all the greater if he could not swim."</p> - -<p>She turned to arrange her flowers upon the altar of the Ravengar -Chantry. Idris was watching her when his eye was caught by a shadow -outlined on the stone pavement. The sun was shining through the window -above the altar, and casting at his feet glowing splashes of various -hues. For a few seconds he continued to stare, doubtful whether he saw -aright, and then, slowly raising his gaze, he followed the slanting -shaft of coloured light upward from the pavement till his eyes rested -upon the stained window.</p> - -<p>The central pane was blazoned with the armorial device of the -Ravengars. The shield, supported on each side by a raven, in canting -allusion to the family name, was charged in the centre with a silver -circlet, a thin purple line forming the perimeter.</p> - -<p><i>The runic ring!</i></p> - -<p>Yes: there was its facsimile gleaming from the coloured glass, and -seeming in the morning sunlight to sparkle with a new and mysterious -significance. That this argent circle was intended to represent the -Norse altar-ring Idris had not the shadow of a doubt: and for a moment -he felt resentment both against Beatrice and Godfrey: for, familiar as -they must be with this coat of arms—Beatrice herself, as a Ravengar, -being entitled to assume it—they had made no allusion to it when -he was telling them the story of the runic ring. It was singular, -too, that he himself should have failed to notice this blazon in his -previous visit to this chantry.</p> - -<p>What was the reason for its figuring in the Ravengar shield?</p> - -<p>Curious stories are often latent within armorial devices, as students -of heraldry can testify. Was it possible that this ring had been -adopted by the Ravengars of a past<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> generation because it had been in -some way connected with their history?</p> - -<p>"Mademoiselle Rivière," said Idris, impulsively, thinking that she -might be able to throw some light upon the matter, "can you tell -me whether the Ravengars of past times had any historic reason for -decorating their armorial shield with a silver ring?"</p> - -<p>"There is an interesting legend to account for it," she said after -a moment's hesitation, "which you will find in a curious old book -entitled, '<i>Traditions of the House of Ravengar</i>.'"</p> - -<p>"You know the story, then? May I not learn it from you rather than from -the book?"</p> - -<p>"It is a story that will take a long time in the telling."</p> - -<p>This, in Idris' opinion, was an excellent reason for hearing it. -Lorelie found herself unable to resist his persuasive manner: so, -sitting down, she proceeded to tell the story with a detail that showed -how it had caught her own imagination.</p> - -<p>In the ninth century—so ran the legend—there lived a Norse sea-king, -who, either from the terror inspired by his arms, or from the gilt -figure on the prow of his galley, was called Draco, or "The Dragon." -From the great wealth acquired in his various water-expeditions he -gained the additional name of "The Golden."</p> - -<p>Like many other heroes of the north this Draco claimed descent from -Odin, and among his hereditaments nothing was more prized by him than -the silver altar-ring used in the religious ceremonies of his clan, -since it was said to have belonged originally to his divine ancestor.</p> - -<p>Draco lived at the time when the Norsemen were sailing by thousands -from their own land in order to gain by the sword new and fairer homes -in Britain. He, too, determined to have a share in the territorial -spoil, and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span>accordingly, equipping his dragon-keels, and gathering his -warcarls around him, he sailed off over the seas.</p> - -<p>On arriving within sight of the Northumbrian coast he had recourse to -the gods for fixing the precise point of his disembarkation: he let -fly two ravens consecrated to Odin, and following in their wake landed -where they had alighted.</p> - -<p>He quickly put to the rout those Northumbrians who attempted to oppose -him, and proceeded to confirm his victory by building a fortress on the -site of the existing Ravenhall. Sallying forth from this place he would -plunder the neighbouring monasteries, or, putting out to sea, attack -the merchant vessels that passed his shores, thus becoming possessed in -course of time, of a vast quantity of treasure in the shape of gold and -silver, church-plate, coinage, jewels, and the like.</p> - -<p>In his old age he met with the end deemed worthy of a warrior, being -slain in battle whilst contending against a neighbouring chieftain. At -his burial a Norse scald composed that wild barbaric requiem, which -Idris had heard Lorelie playing on the organ—a requiem that had -accompanied the funeral of every Ravengar since: though doubtless with -considerable variations from the original strain.</p> - -<p>Draco left one son only, Magnus by name. He was but a child at the time -of his father's death, and the widowed mother, Hilda, fearing that -an attempt might be made to deprive him of his patrimonial treasure, -secretly buried it, purposing to give it to her son when he should be -of age to defend his rights.</p> - -<p>For a time all went well. The warriors who had followed the standard -of Draco rallied around his son, and looked forward to the day when -he should emulate or surpass the deeds of his father. But eventually -murmurings arose. The boy was too much under his mother's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> influence, -they thought: the hand that should have been wielding the spear was -more often found holding the pen. She was accused of teaching him dark -and curious arts.</p> - -<p>It was a long time, however, before the Vikings ventured to express -their displeasure openly, for they feared Hilda. She was an Alruna, -that is, an <i>all-runic</i> or all-wise woman, who had power to cast -pernicious spells upon those who offended her.</p> - -<p>At last, one day, provoked to the extreme by some act of imprudence -on her part, they came to Magnus and telling him that they were -going to banish his mother, they gave him the choice of being their -chieftain or of accompanying her into exile. Magnus elected to stand -with his father's warriors, and, as head of the clan, in full and -solemn doom-ring, he pronounced upon his mother sentence of perpetual -banishment.</p> - -<p>Cut to the heart by this unfilial act Hilda vowed that she would never -reveal to him the hiding-place of the treasure: and so, being banished, -she returned to her native Norseland, taking with her the silver -altar-ring.</p> - -<p>With the lapse of time, however, she began to relent towards her absent -son. She yearned to see him again, but was now too old to undertake -the fatigues attending the voyage. She resolved to break her oath of -silence and to tell him where the treasure lay concealed. To secure -herself from treachery on the part of her messenger, who might have -appropriated the wealth himself if entrusted with the secret of its -hiding-place, she had recourse to the following expedient. She engraved -upon the altar-ring a sentence indicative of the exact site of the -treasure, making use of runic letters, arranged in such a way that none -but Magnus could understand them: for cryptic writing had been one of -the many arts she had taught him. This done, she despatched the ring by -the hand of a herald.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span></p> - -<p>But Magnus was now dead. His son and successor was Ulric, who, because -his lance bore a small pennon decorated with the figure of a raven, was -called Ravengar or Raven Spear, a name that became hereditary.</p> - -<p>Hilda's messenger entered the hall at the hour when Ulric sat feasting -with his warriors. In accordance with the Norse rites of hospitality -the herald was given a seat at the board. No question was asked of him, -and he resolved to defer his message till the meal should be over. -This delay proved fatal to him, for, during the course of the feast, -he accidentally drew forth the altar-ring. In a moment the ancient -greybeards—old companions of Draco—recognized the sacred relic of -Odin, and sternly commanded the stranger to explain how he became -possessed of their former chieftain's ring: it had formed a part of the -missing treasure: he must, therefore, know where the remainder was.</p> - -<p>With a stammering tongue the herald stated that he was a messenger from -the Lady Hilda, and pointing to the inscription upon the ring, said -that it indicated the hiding-place of the treasure.</p> - -<p>Ulric, unskilled in the art of letters, passed the ring on to the -sagamen and scalds, who shook their heads over it. Magnus, the only -one capable of reading the riddle, was no more. The herald himself -was unable to decipher the message that his mistress had caused to be -engraved. To the assembled Vikings his words seemed an idle tale: his -ignorance was imputed to knavery: swords gleamed in the air: the oaken -rafters rang with excited cries.</p> - -<p>At one end of the hall on a daïs there stood, as was usual in those -days, rude images of the gods. To this spot the herald was dragged and -told that unless he revealed the hiding-place of the treasure he should -be sacrificed there and then to Odin and Thor.</p> - -<p>Vain was his plea of ignorance: vain his appeal for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> mercy: he was -slain by the dagger of Ulric, himself the priest as well as the chief -of the clan: the altar-ring was dipped in the blood of the victim, and -the red drops were sprinkled on all present. With his dying breath the -herald called upon heaven to be his avenger, invoking a curse upon the -head of him who should discover the treasure, and praying that the -finder might meet with a death as violent as his own.</p> - -<p>Afterwards, when Ulric came to clean the ring, he found he could not -remove the stain of blood, and the sagamen who examined it declared -that the mark would never be effaced till one of the Raven-race should -die as an atonement for the death of the herald, whose sacred character -had been impiously set at nought.</p> - -<p>Ulric retained the ring as the symbol of his authority: at his death it -passed to his son, and so from generation to generation it continued -in the Ravengar family as a venerated heirloom. In the days of Charles -II the first Earl of Ormsby, Lancelot Ravengar, adopted the ring as an -armorial device, taking as his supporters two ravens, in allusion to -the birds that were said to have directed the course of Draco's galley.</p> - -<p>Such was the story of the runic ring, a story to which Idris listened -with the deepest interest. It was clear to him that his Viking Orm -and Lorelie's Draco were identical, the Norse form of the name having -doubtless been changed into its Latin equivalent by the original -monkish chronicler.</p> - -<p>"And is the ring still in the possession of the Ravengars?" he asked, -when Lorelie had come to the end of her story.</p> - -<p>"No: about fifty years ago it was stolen."</p> - -<p>"Under what circumstances?"</p> - -<p>"The affair was a mystery. The ring was kept with other heirlooms in -the jewel-room at Ravenhall. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span>According to the butler it was secure in -its glass case when he locked the door of the jewel-room at night: in -the morning it was gone. Suspicion fell upon a steward who was under -notice of dismissal: it is supposed that he was actuated by a spirit -of revenge. The detectives employed in the case failed, however, to -connect him with the theft, nor did their investigations lead to any -result so far as regards the recovery of the ring."</p> - -<p>"The steward, if he were guilty, probably disposed of the relic on the -Continent," said Idris. "At any rate it found its way to Nantes, for -the Ravengar heirloom must surely have been the very ring which led to -the murder of M. Duchesne and the consequent arrest of my father."</p> - -<p>"I believe—nay, I am certain it was," answered Lorelie.</p> - -<p>Her eyes drooped and a shadow passed over her face. Any reference to -Eric Marville seemed to trouble her, and Idris resolved to avoid the -mention of his name.</p> - -<p>"And during the many centuries in which this ring was in the possession -of the Ravengars," he continued, "was no one ever found capable of -deciphering the runic inscription?"</p> - -<p>"No one. In time past the ring was submitted to many antiquaries, but -they could make nothing of it."</p> - -<p>Idris, though justly proud of his success in a matter wherein experts -had failed, kept his own counsel for the present, and refrained from -mentioning that <i>he</i> had accomplished the feat.</p> - -<p>"Then, of course, the treasure of old Orm—Draco, I mean—has never -been discovered?"</p> - -<p>"Not by a Ravengar."</p> - -<p>"But by some one else probably. It is not likely that the buried -treasure has remained undiscovered for a thousand years."</p> - -<p>"The legend says that only a Ravengar can discover<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> it, and that in the -very moment of discovery he will forfeit his life as an atonement for -the death of the herald. But this," added Lorelie with a smile, "is, of -course, mere poetic fancy."</p> - -<p>"There is one omission in your story. You did not state where this -sea-king, Draco, was buried."</p> - -<p>"The legend does not say. You are forgetting that it <i>is</i> a legend, -invented, perhaps, by some imaginative king-at-arms in order to -decorate the vanity of the first Earl of Ormsby with a long pedigree -and a romantic origin."</p> - -<p>But Idris had received proofs that the story was true in the main. -For example, there had actually existed an altar-ring such as -described—for he had seen and handled it himself—a ring engraved with -a sentence which not only spoke of a buried treasure, but also bore -the names of the very persons, Orm, Hilda, and Magnus, who had figured -so prominently in the story. The fragment of tapestry brought from the -interior of the ancient tumulus supplied additional evidence as to the -historic existence of the Golden Viking and the widowed Hilda.</p> - -<p>"This Draco," continued Idris, "if he received the sepulchral honours -due to a Norse chief, would be buried beneath an immense mound of -earth. If we are to look for his tomb in this neighbourhood we shall -perhaps find it in a tumulus on the seashore about four miles from -here."</p> - -<p>"I know the eminence you refer to," replied Lorelie. "It is called -Ormfell, that is, Orm's Hill; and therefore it cannot be Draco's tomb, -otherwise it would be called Draconfell, or something similar."</p> - -<p>Idris did not stop to show the fallacy of this mode of reasoning, but -continued:—</p> - -<p>"Has this hillock never been opened by the Earls of Ormsby to see what -it contains?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Not that I am aware of."</p> - -<p>It was strange, Idris thought, that while the tumulus had retained the -true Norse name of the Viking, his descendants, the Ravengars, should -have remembered him only by his Latinized name of Draco. This explained -why Ormfell had never suggested itself to them as the tomb of their -ancestor. In forgetting that he was likewise called Orm, they had -unwittingly deprived themselves of an indication as to the place of the -buried treasure.</p> - -<p>Idris' musings were brought to an end by Lorelie's rising to take her -departure, which caused him to murmur something about the sadness of -parting.</p> - -<p>"But if there were no parting there would never be the sweetness of -meeting," was her reply.</p> - -<p>Was this no more than a pretty saying on her part; or did she really -look forward with pleasure to their next meeting?</p> - -<p>Emboldened by her words he raised her hand to his lips before she was -aware of his intention.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Breakspear, you must not do that," she said in a trembling voice, -and hastily withdrawing her hand from his. Her face was pale: a strange -look came into her eyes, and she turned and hurried away. Idris, -trembling lest he should have given offence, watched her till she was -out of sight, and then went slowly back to Wave Crest.</p> - -<p>Verily he was a fortunate fellow! Fresh from a charming <i>tête-à-tête</i> -with one fair lady he was now to have the like with a second: for, on -passing through the garden-gate, he saw Beatrice Ravengar reading in a -low chair beneath the apple-trees—Beatrice, the sea-king's daughter, -the descendant of that very Viking whose bones reposed in Ormfell!</p> - -<p>Her heart beat more quickly as Idris approached. He,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> little divining -the cause of the colour that played so enchantingly over her cheek, -thought Godfrey's sister a very pretty maiden indeed. True, she lacked -the dark starry beauty of Lorelie—Idris' tastes ran in favour of -brunettes—yet there was a subtle witchery in Beatrice's soft grey eyes -and winsome expression; in her sunny hair: and in her graceful figure, -set off as it then was, by a dainty dress of soft muslin.</p> - -<p>"My name, being Breakspear," said he, with mock sternness, as he took -a seat beside her, "you will not be surprised to learn that I have a -lance to break with you."</p> - -<p>"And what have I done that is amiss?" asked Beatrice, outwardly -smiling, but inwardly uneasy: for some secret feeling told her that -he had just left the presence of Mademoiselle Rivière, and she feared -lest that lady should have said something to prejudice her in the eyes -of Idris. A fair return, for had not she herself let fall in Idris' -presence words unfriendly to Lorelie?</p> - -<p>"You have committed the sin of omission in not telling me that the -armorial shield of the Ravengars is decorated with a silver ring."</p> - -<p>"I am aware that a ring figures in their coat of arms," said Beatrice, -with wide, wondering eyes, "but where is my fault in not telling you -of it? Surely," she added, with a sudden intuition as to his meaning, -"surely you do not mean to say that there is some connection between -your runic ring and the Ravengar device?"</p> - -<p>Idris' reply was to repeat the story he had just heard.</p> - -<p>"This is all new to me," said Beatrice, when he had finished, "but then -I never was a Ravengar. I am the daughter of my mother, and have taken -little, if any, interest in the genealogy and family traditions of my -ancestors, the belted earls."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You should now look with more favour on the Viking's skull as being -that of your great forefather. His object in coming down the staircase -last night was evidently to introduce himself to you, his youngest -descendant.—But I have interrupted your reading, for which I beg -pardon. May I ask the title of your book?"</p> - -<p>"Longfellow's '<i>Saga of King Olaf</i>.' You have read it?"</p> - -<p>"No: but a Norse saga in verse is, by its very nature, certain to -interest me. Will you not read aloud, Miss Ravengar?"</p> - -<p>There is little Beatrice would not have done to please Idris, and -accordingly she began the reading of the poem. Her voice was clear -and silvery, and marked at times by a cadence, plaintive and pretty. -Idris would have fared ill had he been required to give a summary of -the poem, for he paid little attention to the words, finding a greater -charm in the face and voice of the reader. More than once the thought -stole over him that if he had not seen Mademoiselle Rivière his love -might have found its resting-place in Beatrice.</p> - -<p>Reading smoothly onward Beatrice came to the scene in which the -reluctant bride Gudrun, on her wedding-night, draws near to the couch -of Olaf, dagger in hand and murder in her heart.</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>"'What is that,' King Olaf said,</div> -<div>'Gleams so bright above thy head?</div> -<div>Wherefore standest thou so white</div> -<div class="i2">In pale moonlight?'</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div>"''Tis the bodkin that I wear</div> -<div>When at night I bind my hair.'"</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>Beatrice paused. "Bodkin?" she said. "That's not the right word. Ladies -don't fasten their hair with bodkins."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Poets do not speak with the precision of grammarians. I suppose he -should have said hairpin."</p> - -<p>"Did they use hairpins in those days, then?"</p> - -<p>"Without a doubt," replied Idris, being a little hazy on the point, -nevertheless.</p> - -<p>"Gudrun must have worn a very large hairpin, if she could liken a -dagger to it."</p> - -<p>"I suppose it was not very unlike the stiletto contrivances worn by -ladies of the present day," answered Idris.</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>"''Tis the bodkin that I wear</div> -<div>When at night I bind my hair.'"</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>repeated Beatrice. "At night? Did she wear it in her hair while -sleeping?"</p> - -<p>"I never knew the lady," laughed Idris, "so I am unable to answer. Why -shouldn't she?"</p> - -<p>"Because during sleep she might turn her head upon the point and -receive an unpleasant stab."</p> - -<p>"You speak from experience?"</p> - -<p>"An experience as recent only as last night."</p> - -<p>"We must leave Gudrun's bodkin suspended in midair while you tell me -how this happened."</p> - -<p>"There is really nothing to tell. When I went to bed I forgot to remove -the stiletto from my hair. Somehow, I was unable to sleep last night."</p> - -<p>"You were thinking of the skull, perhaps?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, it must have been that," replied Beatrice, colouring at this -prevarication, for had she spoken truly, she must have told him that -<i>he</i> was the cause of her unrest.</p> - -<p>"And so," she continued, "while I was tossing from side to side, the -stiletto must have got loose, and in turning my head on the pillow I -received a stab from the point of it. Nothing to speak of, a mere scalp -wound."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p> - -<p>"It was well the point was not forced into your brain. I have heard -of fatal accidents resulting from the use of these stiletto-pins. You -discarded it at once?"</p> - -<p>"Of course."</p> - -<p>"Forever?"</p> - -<p>"O, no. Only till the morning," replied Beatrice demurely.</p> - -<p>"What? You have not let it serve as a warning? O, Miss Ravengar, Miss -Ravengar! what is this I see shimmering in your hair at the present -moment?"</p> - -<p>"A proof of feminine vanity, for it is of no real use, being merely an -ornament."</p> - -<p>"May I inspect the savage weapon that might have ended your existence, -and may yet, since you decline to learn wisdom from experience?"</p> - -<p>Beatrice drew forth the hairpin. It was shaped like a dagger, the steel -being slender, rounded, and tapering to a point: the hilt of gold set -with brilliants.</p> - -<p>As soon as Idris saw it he stared at it as if mesmerized, the tapering -point of the slender steel was so strangely suggestive of the metal -fragment that had fallen from the Viking's skull. He took it from his -pocket and held it out to her.</p> - -<p>"Miss Ravengar, what should you say this is?"</p> - -<p>"That?" replied Beatrice. "That is a part of a hairpin. See!"</p> - -<p>She laid it upon her open palm beside her own stiletto. The terminal -of the latter corresponded exactly in form and colour with the broken -fragment: at least, the difference, if difference there were, was -imperceptible by the naked eye.</p> - -<p>"It certainly <i>looks</i> like a hairpin."</p> - -<p>"Looks like it, do you say?" said Beatrice, with a sort of reproach in -her tone. "It <i>is</i>," she asseverated firmly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p> - -<p>"What reason have you for this opinion other than mere resemblance?" -asked Idris, a little surprised by her air of certitude.</p> - -<p>"I do not reason upon it. I <i>know</i> it is a hairpin," she replied, with -a peculiar emphasis upon the "know."</p> - -<p>There was a strangeness in her manner, an entire reversal of her former -self: her face seemed hallowed by a light like the inspired expression -of a sibyl. The expression was momentary only, dying as soon as born, -but it left Idris curiously impressed.</p> - -<p>"Hilda the Alruna may have looked like that, when delivering her -oracles," he thought.</p> - -<p>"Why do you value this piece of steel?" asked Beatrice, as she restored -it to him.</p> - -<p>"This little piece of steel, Miss Ravengar, is nothing less than the -instrument that gave your ancestor Orm his <i>coup-de-grâce</i>. It dropped -out of the skull last night. For the future my motto must be, 'When in -doubt, consult Miss Ravengar.' By your wit I was enabled to discover -the secret entrance to Ormfell; and now, when wondering of what this -steel fragment once formed part, you come to my aid again by reading a -poem concerning a Norse lady, whose intended action towards her husband -seems almost to have a direct bearing upon the Viking's skull. Our -Norse forefathers, you will remember, were accustomed to regard their -maidens as prophetesses, whose opinions, when solemnly invoked, were to -be received as oracles. I will imitate their example, and accept your -dictum that this is a fragment of a lady's hairpin."</p> - -<p>Godfrey, who had joined the pair a few minutes previously, and had -stood a silent listener of the conversation, now intervened with a -remark.</p> - -<p>"Well, then, you must admit," said he, "that this opinion clashes with -the story told by the tapestry, which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> tapestry avers that Orm died -with a cloth-yard shaft sticking in him."</p> - -<p>"The two ideas are not irreconcilable," argued Idris. "My belief is -that we have here," holding up the piece of steel, "a silent testimony -to a domestic tragedy of a thousand years ago. Old Orm the Viking was -carried from the battle-field wounded by an arrow. His wife Hilda -was perhaps enamoured of some other warrior: and so, while affecting -to nurse her husband, she may have hastened his end by secretly -driving her strong hairpin into his head, a feat she could perform -with comparative safety to herself, there being no coroner's inquest -in those days. His death would be attributed to the arrow-wound, and -therefore is so represented on the tapestry."</p> - -<p>"If your inference be right," said Beatrice, "it is a strange -verification of the old saying, 'Murder will out.' Fancy the crime -coming to light after the lapse of a thousand years! Though it is not -very kind of you, Mr. Breakspear," she added, with a mock pout, "to -attempt to prove that my ancestress Hilda was a murderess. You will be -saying next that a taste for assassination is one of our family traits, -and that the homicidal microbe runs in my blood."</p> - -<p>"The lapse of ten centuries will have effectually eliminated it."</p> - -<p>"<i>Merci!</i>" she returned, dropping him a mock curtsey. "Yes: it is -consoling to reflect that this little piece of family scandal is -removed from us by the space of a full millennium."</p> - -<p>"But Idris is altogether wrong in his theory," remarked Godfrey -decisively. "This piece of steel is not ancient at all."</p> - -<p>"Ay, ay, destroyer of my romance!" returned Idris. "Can you give me -satisfactory proof that it is not ancient?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I think so: if you will let me do what I like with it."</p> - -<p>Idris shook his head.</p> - -<p>"I value this fragment," he explained, "believing in its antiquity. You -would not willingly destroy the bullet that killed Nelson, nor will I -consent to destroy the weapon that slew my Viking."</p> - -<p>"But if I could clearly demonstrate to you that it is a modern piece of -steel—what then?"</p> - -<p>"In that case it would lose its chief value in my eyes, and it would -prove, among other things, that the skull is not Orm's: for if this -steel be modern, so likewise must be the skull. But how are you going -to prove its modernity? Are not iron and steel alike in all ages? Is -the steel that was wrought on the anvil of the Norse armourer different -from the steel forged to-day in the foundries of Sheffield?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, in some respects. I want to conduct a chemical experiment with -this relic, an experiment which will necessitate its destruction. -Still, if I succeed in demonstrating its modernity you will not object?"</p> - -<p>"Far from it. But are you likely to demonstrate it?"</p> - -<p>"Well, of course, I am open to failure. My opinion rests upon a certain -assumption, which assumption, if correct, will conclusively show that -this steel was forged within modern times. <i>Nous verrons.</i>"</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XII</span> <span class="smaller">IDRIS DECLARES HIS LOVE</span></h2> - -<p>How long should a man have known a woman before venturing upon a -proposal of love? Such was the question now occupying the mind of Idris.</p> - -<p>He had seen Mademoiselle Rivière three times only: he had not spent -above seven hours in her presence: yet had they been seven hundred -instead of seven he knew that his feeling for her would be no stronger -at the end of that time than at the beginning. The moon might have its -period of crescent and wane: not so his love: its circle was full and -complete from the first moment of his setting eyes upon her.</p> - -<p>She was now the sole object of his thoughts. All other matters: the -quest for his father, the problem of the Viking's skull, were relegated -to the dim and distant future; what were they compared with the winning -of Lorelie?</p> - -<p>He found himself continually dwelling upon her manner towards him at -the moment of their last parting. He was uncertain whether she was -startled only, or vexed, by his act of gallantry; whether he must draw -hope or despair from that event; and he knew not which was the wiser -course—to declare his love at once, or to defer the proposal till he -had gained a greater hold upon her affections. A too premature avowal -might be disastrous: on the other hand to be dilatory might lead to his -being forestalled by Viscount Walden.</p> - -<p>This latter argument prevailed with him, and he <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span>resolved to see -Lorelie at once, and take the momentous step of giving utterance to his -feelings. Even rejection was preferable to the state of suspense in -which he was now living.</p> - -<p>On presenting himself at The Cedars he was told by the maid who opened -the door that her mistress was out. Where had she gone? The maid was -not certain, but she fancied that "Ma'amzelle" had said something about -spending the afternoon in Ravenhall Park.</p> - -<p>Accordingly Idris betook himself to this park, a large extent of which -was open to the public: and after a short search he found Lorelie -seated within a charming recess formed by dark rocks overhung with -blossoming foliage. She was holding in her hand a small writing-pad, -upon which lay some sheets of manuscript that she was apparently -correcting and annotating with a pencil, doubtless putting some -emendatory touches to her drama, <i>The Fatal Skull</i>.</p> - -<p>The place, though picturesque, was hardly the ideal spot for his -love-avowal, since it was within sight of the majestic towers of -Ravenhall, which, in Idris' opinion, offered a very powerful argument -in favour of Lord Walden's suit.</p> - -<p>On seeing Idris Lorelie at once made way for him on the seat beside -her, the glad light in her eyes showing that he was far from being an -unwelcome visitor.</p> - -<p>Though Idris had set out in bold spirit, yet now, faced by opportunity, -he began to realize that the task required more courage than he was -master of: and for a long time he talked of other matters, or rather -he let Lorelie carry on the conversation, finding it easier to be a -listener than a speaker.</p> - -<p>And Lorelie <i>could</i> talk: charmingly, and upon many topics that are -supposed to be the peculiar province of the masculine mind. She had -never seemed so bright<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> and interesting as on this present occasion. -How sweet and silvery her laugh! How pretty the curve of her lips, and -how glowing their colour! Supposing he were to stoop suddenly and kiss -them? Would not such an act be tantamount to a love-avowal, and thus -relieve him from the difficulty of an oral confession?</p> - -<p>Lorelie, observant at last of Idris' quiet manner, rallied him on his -want of spirits.</p> - -<p>"You seem very grave to-day, Mr. Breakspear?"</p> - -<p>"Do I, mademoiselle? I am thinking."</p> - -<p>"May I share your thoughts?"</p> - -<p>"You may share my life if you will."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Breakspear, what are you saying?" exclaimed Lorelie, quickly, -breathlessly.</p> - -<p>"That I love you. Is that a fault? Nay, rather, it would be a fault not -to love you."</p> - -<p>Lorelie drew a deep shuddering breath. Their eyes met: a strange -wistful tenderness in hers. Such a look Idris had never before received -from woman: he knew what it meant, and grew giddy at the thought that -he had the power to evoke it.</p> - -<p>Then, in a moment, all was changed!</p> - -<p>A priestess, starting in agony from the Delphic tripod, could not have -exhibited a wilder mien than did Lorelie at that moment as she rose to -her feet, her hands pressed to her bosom as if to repress the emotion -struggling there: in her eyes an expression of horror, the startled -guilty look of one who, tempted to listen to wrong, is suddenly -recalled to a sense of duty.</p> - -<p>Idris had wanted to say more, to speak of the depth of his love, but -that look chilled all the warmth of his feelings, and checked the words -that were rising to his lips.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Breakspear," she began, with a strange "catch" in her voice, "you -saved my life from the sea, and it may be that gratitude has led me -to—to—how shall I <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span>express myself?—to be too warm in my friendship. -I have not guarded myself sufficiently. If there has been anything -in my manner or words calculated to impress you with the belief -that your addresses would be acceptable to me, I beg—I entreat—of -you to forgive me. Such utterance—such action—on my part has been -unintentional. I cannot listen to you."</p> - -<p>With many women a "No" may sometimes mean "Yes," but this was not the -case with Lorelie Rivière. Idris felt that her decision was final, -irrevocable. And yet what was the meaning of that first look of rapture -that had come into her eyes?</p> - -<p>"You do well to refuse me, mademoiselle: to refuse in truth any suitor, -for who indeed is worthy of you, but——"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Breakspear, for pity's sake be silent. See!"</p> - -<p>She drew something from her dress-pocket, turned aside for a moment, -and then held out the third finger of her left hand. And at the sight -Idris, strong man though he was, staggered as a man may stagger on -hearing his death sentence.</p> - -<p>"Great heaven! You are not married?" he said hoarsely.</p> - -<p>"Ten months ago. Secretly. At Nice."</p> - -<p>"To—to——?"</p> - -<p>But he knew the name before she pronounced it.</p> - -<p>"To Lord Walden—yes."</p> - -<p>The earth that afternoon was roofed with a sky of deep delicious azure: -the soft breeze rippled the leaves of the woodland, and at each breath -the air became alive with the white blossoms of the trees. Nothing -could be sweeter or fairer than this summer day, but its charm was not -for Idris. With the knowledge that Lorelie could never be his, there -passed away a glory from the earth.</p> - -<p>Mechanically he turned his eyes towards Ravenhall.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> Lorelie followed -the direction of his glance. Through a vista in the trees they could -see the castellated pile, set with mullioned casements, and fronted -with ivied terraces ascended by stately flights of stone steps. She -knew—and bitter was the knowledge—that Idris was thinking that -<i>there</i> was the prize for which she had sold herself.</p> - -<p>He wronged her, however, by this thought.</p> - -<p>When Lorelie, eighteen months before, had listened to the vows of -Viscount Walden she had honestly believed herself to be in love with -him. Idris' avowal had shown her the hollowness of that belief. Vivid -as fire on a dark night there suddenly flashed upon her trembling mind -the overwhelming revelation that her feeling for her husband was as -nothing compared with her feeling for Idris. If all the happiness she -had previously known had been suddenly sublimated and concentrated -into one single intense sensation of a moment's duration it would not -have equalled the rapture evoked by Idris' avowal. But in a moment the -feeling had gone, giving place to the dull lethargy of despair. Though -realizing but too plainly that she had married the wrong man, the -knowledge of the fact did not diminish the loyalty due to her husband. -Faithful she would ever remain, but it was not her fault if the love -that she could henceforth give him would be scarcely deserving of the -name.</p> - -<p>She would have died rather than have given utterance to this -confession, but Idris had read the secret in her eyes: she knew that -he had read it, and the knowledge added to her confusion and made her -unable to meet his glance.</p> - -<p>There was a long silence between them. What was there to talk about? -Their mutual love? That was of necessity a forbidden subject; and to -talk of anything less than this seemed a mockery of the deep feelings -within them.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p> - -<p>Parted from Lorelie by adverse fortune what remained for Idris but to -face the situation bravely?</p> - -<p>"Mademoiselle," he said, using from habit the title that was no longer -hers, "I take my leave. Forgive me, if my words have caused you pain. -Farewell."</p> - -<p>"But not forever. We may meet from time to time as—as friends."</p> - -<p>Did she not realize that such friendship might be perilous? No: and -as Idris gazed upon her clear eyes he saw there a spirit too pure to -suffer itself to do wrong.</p> - -<p>"You must forget," she faltered, "that you have ever entertained -this—this feeling for me."</p> - -<p>Idris smiled bitterly. He knew—<i>she</i> knew—that it was the one event -in their lives they never would forget.</p> - -<p>At their last parting he had kissed her hand: he did not venture even -to touch it now, but, lifting his hat, he quietly withdrew.</p> - -<p>With tears in her eyes Lorelie watched him till he was lost to view.</p> - -<p>"If you knew the truth," she murmured, "your feeling for me would not -be love but hatred."</p> - -<p>In melancholy mood Idris returned to Wave Crest. Beatrice, quick to -interpret his looks, guessed what had happened: and though the result -was such as she herself desired, yet the sight of his dejection touched -her to the quick and filled her with a mixed feeling of pity and anger. -Who, forsooth, was Mademoiselle Rivière that she should treat Idris' -love as of no account?</p> - -<p>Aware that Lorelie was not favourably regarded by Beatrice, Idris -had prudently refrained from making the latter a confidante of his -love-affair, but now, sitting down beside her, he proceeded to tell her -all.</p> - -<p>But when Beatrice heard the amazing news that Lorelie Rivière was in -reality Viscountess Walden, and therefore<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> her cousin by marriage, a -look not merely of wonder but of dismay stole over her face.</p> - -<p>"Have you proof of this?" she asked breathlessly.</p> - -<p>"Proof of what?" exclaimed Godfrey, entering the room at this juncture.</p> - -<p>"That Mademoiselle Rivière is Ivar's wife," she replied.</p> - -<p>"Well, I did not ask her to produce her marriage certificate," said -Idris, somewhat vexed that Lorelie's word should be doubted. "For the -truth of her words I had better refer you to your cousin, Lord Walden -himself. We see now the cause of his surliness the other night. Any -fellow with so lovely a wife might be jealous on learning that she had -spent five hours in a lonely cave <i>tête-à-tête</i> with a stranger."</p> - -<p>"He might, nevertheless, have had the grace to give you a few words of -thanks for saving her life," remarked Godfrey. "I suppose it is from -fear of his father that he keeps the marriage a secret?"</p> - -<p>"Presumably."</p> - -<p>"Hum! rather hazardous to bring her so near to Ravenhall," said Godfrey.</p> - -<p>"And she is really married?" murmured Beatrice. "O, how I have wronged -her!"</p> - -<p>"In what way?" asked Godfrey. "Come, Trixie, let us learn the reason of -your past aversion."</p> - -<p>It was some time before Beatrice could be induced to reply.</p> - -<p>"You remember the case of old Gideon?" she said at last.</p> - -<p>"Perfectly," replied Godfrey, adding for Idris' enlightenment, "he was -an old farmer at the point of death. I was unable to procure a nurse, -and Trixie generously offered her services. The poor fellow died at -midnight; and Trixie, though pressed to remain, left the place and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> -came walking home all by herself, reaching here at two in the morning. -But what has this to do with Mademoiselle Rivière—I beg her pardon, -Lady Walden?"</p> - -<p>"On my way home," replied Beatrice, "I had to pass her villa, and whom -should I see walking up the garden-path towards the house but Ivar -himself! He had not noticed me, and I did not make myself known to him: -in truth I was so much amazed that I could do nothing but stand silent -under the shadow of the trees, watching, or, if you will, playing the -spy. I saw him open the door of the villa with a key of his own, and -go in. Not knowing that he was married to Mademoiselle Rivière, what -conclusion could I come to but that—that——"</p> - -<p>And here Beatrice paused, leaving her hearers to guess the nature of -her conclusion.</p> - -<p>"And you thought <i>that</i> of Mademoiselle Rivière?" said Idris: and -Beatrice felt keenly the reproach in his tone.</p> - -<p>"I have never whispered my suspicion to any one—not even to you, -Godfrey."</p> - -<p>"The sequel shows the advantage of holding one's tongue," replied her -brother. "It has saved you from having to make a humiliating apology -to the new viscountess. Well, seeing that she is now your cousin, you -cannot do better than acknowledge the relationship by making a call -upon her."</p> - -<p>But Beatrice shrank from this ordeal.</p> - -<p>"I have always shown her by my manner that I dislike her. She must -think me an odious creature."</p> - -<p>"On the contrary," replied Idris, "whenever your name has been -mentioned she has spoken well of you, and has expressed herself as -desirous of your friendship."</p> - -<p>Beatrice was finally persuaded into promising that she would pay the -new viscountess a visit on the morrow:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> after which, Godfrey, turning -to Idris, addressed himself to a new theme.</p> - -<p>"I spent this morning," he said, "in my laboratory over that piece of -steel taken from your so-called Viking's skull, and I have discovered -it to be of modern fabrication."</p> - -<p>"Ah! and how do you prove it?" said Idris, preparing to argue the point.</p> - -<p>"Chemical analysis shows that the steel contains two per cent. of -platinum."</p> - -<p>"What of that?" said Idris bluntly.</p> - -<p>"Much. Platinum is a metal of modern discovery, first hit on in the -year—well, I forget the exact date, some time about the beginning of -the eighteenth century. Therefore, any steel that is combined with -platinum must have been forged within the past two hundred years, and -consequently cannot be a relic of Norse days."</p> - -<p>"For what purpose is platinum mixed with the steel?"</p> - -<p>"To impart additional hardness."</p> - -<p>"I must accept your dictum as final. Of course the conclusion is that -if the steel be modern, the skull must be modern, too. I must give -up my belief, Miss Ravengar, that I possess the skull of your Viking -ancestor. But then," he went on, "Orm was buried within that hillock: -the pictured tapestry and the name Ormfell prove it. What, then, has -become of his remains?"</p> - -<p>"Crumbled to dust, perhaps, with the lapse of time," suggested Beatrice.</p> - -<p>"The existence of the tapestry confutes you. Solid bone would not -crumble, if a woollen fabric will endure."</p> - -<p>"True," replied Beatrice, with a puzzled look. "I am forgetting the -tapestry. Here's a mystery, indeed! What has become of the Viking's -bones?"</p> - -<p>"If the skeleton within the tumulus be that of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> modern person," said -Idris, "how on earth came it there? Who buried him, and——"</p> - -<p>"We do not yet know that it is a 'him,'" interjected Godfrey. "The -skeleton may be the remains of a woman."</p> - -<p>"I speak provisionally. Who buried him, or her, and why should such a -strange grave be chosen?"</p> - -<p>"Because," replied the surgeon, gravely, "because, my dear Idris, -cannot you see that the present occupant of Ormfell did not die a -natural death? The piece of steel lodged in the brain proves that. -He was murdered, murdered with a stiletto hairpin: and he, or they, -that did the deed, knowing, as we know, that Ormfell contains a -grave-chamber, disposed of the victim's body by placing it within the -hillock, no doubt thinking that the remains, if ever discovered, would -be taken for those of some ancient warrior, an error into which we -ourselves would have fallen had not that tapestry remained, I might -say, providentially remained, to tell us otherwise."</p> - -<p>For a few moments both Beatrice and Idris sat dumbfounded at this -startling theory.</p> - -<p>"By heaven! I believe you are right," cried Idris. "And yet this -murder-theory of yours is open to objection. There is the difficulty of -conveying a dead body to Ormfell. Consider the risk of detection that -the murderer would run."</p> - -<p>"The murder may have taken place within Ormfell itself," suggested -Beatrice.</p> - -<p>"That is my view," replied Godfrey, "for there are signs which seem to -point to that conclusion."</p> - -<p>"What signs are they?" asked Idris.</p> - -<p>"You will perhaps think my first reason fanciful," replied Godfrey. -"You have continually maintained," he went on, addressing Idris, -"that the divining rod took a downward bend at a certain point in the -mortuary <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span>chamber. What formed the attractive force? 'The voice of thy -brother's blood crieth unto me from the ground!' Shall we say that that -was the true cause? For human blood <i>has</i> been shed there. Have you -forgotten how the tapestry taken from that very spot reddened the water -in which it was placed? Now let us suppose that some one standing at -that point was suddenly struck down from behind: his natural action in -falling would be to clutch at the nearest thing he could lay hold of."</p> - -<p>"Which in his case would be the tapestry," interjected Idris.</p> - -<p>"Just so: and that is my way of accounting for the tearing of that -fabric, and the downward curvature of the rod to which it was attached. -The tapestry at the same time became saturated with the blood of the -victim."</p> - -<p>"Your opinion seems reasonable," remarked Idris, "except as regards -the divining rod; I can't believe that dried blood could produce such -an effect. But the difficulty remains—what has become of the Viking's -bones?"</p> - -<p>And to this question Godfrey could give no satisfactory answer.</p> - -<p>"When do you think this murder took place?" Idris asked. "In our own -days, or long before them?"</p> - -<p>"I see no way at present of fixing the date," Godfrey replied.</p> - -<p>"It may have been twenty, fifty, or a hundred years ago, or even more," -ventured Idris.</p> - -<p>"Any period since the era of the discovery of platinum," answered -Godfrey.</p> - -<p>"Is there no way in these scientific times of ascertaining the age of -that skull?" asked Beatrice.</p> - -<p>Godfrey shook his head.</p> - -<p>"The most skilled anatomist would be puzzled to determine the age of a -given skull," he replied.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span></p> - -<p>Idris paced uneasily to and fro, assigning the skull in turn to each -of those who, to his knowledge, had been in any way connected with -the runic ring—his father, Lorelie's father, the unknown assassin of -Duchesne, and lastly the masked man of Quilaix.</p> - -<p>"Whoever the victim was," said Beatrice, slowly and thoughtfully, "he -must have been murdered by a woman."</p> - -<p>"<i>A woman!</i>" ejaculated Idris. He could not tell why at that moment a -cold feeling should come over him.</p> - -<p>"A woman!" repeated Beatrice, solemnly: "for I still adhere to my -belief that the piece of steel was a fragment of a stiletto hairpin, -and who but a woman would think of using such an instrument?"</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XIII</span> <span class="smaller">AT LORELIE'S VILLA</span></h2> - -<p>On the following day Beatrice Ravengar, with some misgivings, set out -for the purpose of making an afternoon call upon Mademoiselle Rivière, -or, to use her rightful title, Viscountess Walden.</p> - -<p>Idris accompanied her, nominally as her escort, in reality consumed -with the longing to meet Lorelie again. True wisdom told him that he -was but tormenting himself in thus seeing her, that the better way was -to avoid her altogether: but he found this latter course impossible: -he despised himself for his weakness, yet as the moth is attracted by -the light so was Idris attracted by the fascinating personality of -Viscountess Walden.</p> - -<p>On arriving at The Cedars Beatrice was received in a manner so gracious -and winning that her misgivings were immediately put to flight.</p> - -<p>"We are cousins, you and I," said Lorelie, kissing her affectionately, -"and must ever be good friends."</p> - -<p>Beatrice, quick to read character, could tell that the other was really -desirous of her friendship: and as she recalled her unjust suspicion -she felt full of a guilty shame, and was almost tempted to fall upon -her knees, confess her fault, and beg for pardon.</p> - -<p>Aware of the circumstances under which Lorelie and Idris had last -parted, Beatrice viewed their greeting of each other with an interest -that was almost painful to her, and the viscountess knowing that she -was watched, extended to Idris the dignified courtesy that she might<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> -have extended to a stranger, though all the time she was inwardly -tormented lest Idris should think her unduly cold. None but herself -knew how her heart was pulsating beneath her calm exterior. She was -not to be blamed, she argued, for the feeling that had sprung up -self-originated within her breast. Action and tongue may be controlled: -thought never. So long, then, as she controlled her words and action, -what more was required of her? What more? A secret voice seemed to say, -"Never to see Idris again!"</p> - -<p>They sat on the veranda conversing on various topics, and as Beatrice -listened to the charming words and the sweet laugh of the viscountess, -and contemplated her brilliant beauty, she no longer wondered that -Idris should have fallen in love with her.</p> - -<p>During the course of the conversation some details of Lorelie's history -became revealed.</p> - -<p>She was now twenty-three years of age, and had been born at Nantes in -the same year in which her father, Captain Rochefort, had aided Eric -Marville to escape from the Breton prison. Her father she had never -known, nor had he ever been seen again by Madame Rochefort after his -flight in the yacht <i>Nemesis</i>.</p> - -<p>When Lorelie was sixteen years of age her mother died, leaving to her -an income sufficient with economy for her maintenance. Henceforward she -had led a solitary independent life, content with her books and music. -In her twenty-first year she met Lord Walden at Monaco.</p> - -<p>They were married privately, and while the earl supposed his son -to be carrying on the course of study requisite for the diplomatic -profession, that son was in reality quietly celebrating his honeymoon -on the Riviera.</p> - -<p>After a few months of wedded life Lorelie suddenly conceived the -purpose of visiting Ormsby, though her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> husband was opposed to the -idea. By preconcerted arrangement she took up her residence at The -Cedars, some weeks prior to Ivar's home-coming, lest their coincident -arrival should give rise to suspicion.</p> - -<p>And here she remained, concealing her rightful name and rank in -compliance with Ivar's wish, and waiting till a favourable opportunity -should arrive for making the marriage known to the stern old earl.</p> - -<p>Secret contempt stole over Idris at the course pursued by the viscount. -A man might be very well content to brave his father's anger and the -loss of an estate, however splendid, for such a wife as Lorelie. By -some subtle process of telepathy his thoughts communicated themselves -to her, and knowing that <i>he</i> would not have hesitated at such -sacrifice, the viscountess trembled and durst not meet his glance, -lest he should read in her eyes more than he ought. Contrary to the -proverb the third person on this occasion was not <i>de trop</i>. Lorelie -felt grateful for the presence of Beatrice, and clung to her as to a -protecting angel.</p> - -<p>"May I add one to this pleasant trio?" said a new voice, breaking in -upon them: and, looking up, Idris caught the suspicious glance of the -man whom he was striving not to hate—Lorelie's husband!</p> - -<p>Lord Walden coldly acknowledged Idris' presence, smiled at Beatrice, -and still keeping up the pretence of being merely a personal friend of -Lorelie's, was addressing her as "Mademoiselle Rivière," when Beatrice -intervened with, "Why disguise the truth, Cousin Ivar? We know that -there is no Mademoiselle Rivière now."</p> - -<p>"Ah! then that makes it much more pleasant for all concerned."</p> - -<p>But though he spoke thus, there was on his face a look that showed he -was not over-pleased to learn that the truth had become known.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You may rely upon our secrecy," added Beatrice, thinking to put him at -his ease.</p> - -<p>"I trust so," replied Ivar, coldly.</p> - -<p>He took a seat beside Lorelie, and proceeded to roll a cigarette, -remarking as he did so, "You do not object?"</p> - -<p>Lorelie assented with a smile that evoked the jealousy of the foolish -Idris. If a woman may not smile upon her husband, upon whom may she -smile?</p> - -<p>Concluding that he and Beatrice were better away, Idris now arose, but -Lorelie opposed their departure.</p> - -<p>"Going after so short a stay?" she remonstrated. "Now you are here you -must remain for the evening, and—and Mr. Breakspear as well," she -added, glancing at Idris.</p> - -<p>Her manner was so persuasive that the two visitors lacked courage -to refuse the invitation. Thinking, however, that the viscount and -his wife might wish to exchange confidences, Idris offered his arm -to Beatrice and invited her to a stroll through the grounds that -surrounded the villa.</p> - -<p>As Beatrice withdrew leaning on the arm of Idris and blushing at some -compliment of his, Lorelie glanced after them with a touch of envy -in her eyes. Her days for receiving such attentions were over: her -husband had ceased to be her lover. She could not avoid contrasting -the appearance of the two men—Ivar's pallid face and languid air with -Idris' healthful bronzed complexion and splendid physique. There was -a difference of ten years in their ages: and though Ivar was scarcely -past twenty, his face bore signs of dissipation—signs which his wife -perceived with surprise and sorrow.</p> - -<p>No sooner were Idris and Beatrice out of earshot than Ivar turned a -frowning countenance upon his wife.</p> - -<p>"Why have you told them of our marriage?"</p> - -<p>"It was necessary, Ivar."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p> - -<p>As she recalled the occasion of its disclosure a faint colour tinged -her cheek; and Ivar, though not usually a quick-witted person, -immediately suspected the cause.</p> - -<p>"Necessitated by that fellow's making love to you, I presume?" he said, -eyeing her keenly.</p> - -<p>"Ivar," she answered quietly, evading his question, "so long as men -think me free——"</p> - -<p>"Free! that's a good word."</p> - -<p>"So long as I am supposed to be unmarried," she continued, correcting -her expression, "so long shall I be liable to receive attentions from -other men. You can easily remedy this by making our marriage known."</p> - -<p>"O, harping on that string again," said Ivar impatiently. "It's out -of the question—at present. The governor would never forgive me for -marrying a woman of no family, especially," he added, with something -like a sneer, "especially a woman who admits that there is a shadow on -her name."</p> - -<p>There was a flash of resentment in the eyes that were turned suddenly -upon him.</p> - -<p>"You can bear me witness it was before our marriage and not after that -I confessed to having a secret."</p> - -<p>"You would not tell me its nature."</p> - -<p>"No: nor ever shall," replied Lorelie, with a hardening of her -features. "You were willing to take me as I was, and to ask no -questions as to my past. You promised never to refer to my secret. -But—how often have you reproached me with it?"</p> - -<p>Ivar smoked on in moody silence. It was true he had given no thought -to her secret in his first glow of passion. A slave to sensuality he -had married Lorelie for her beauty, not knowing who or whence she was, -ignorant even that her true name was Rochefort. Now that her beauty was -beginning to pall upon him, a fact he took little pains to disguise, -this secret that darkened her past<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> began to trouble him. What -answer was he to give to the editors of "Debrett" and "Burke," when -interrogated as to his wife's family?</p> - -<p>"Ivar," Lorelie continued earnestly, "your visits here are beginning to -be noticed. My character is becoming exposed to suspicions. You will -let the world know that I am your wife, will you not?"</p> - -<p>No true man could have resisted the appealing glance of her eyes, the -pleading tone of her soft voice; but Ivar, being no true man, was proof -against both.</p> - -<p>"Impossible, at present," he frowned. "I have raised you from -comparative poverty to affluence; I have surrounded you with luxury, -and, by heaven! you little know at what cost, and at what risk to -myself! I have made you my wife: be content with that. You will be a -countess some day; think of your future triumph over those who slight -you now. If people talk, you must put up with it, or go away from -Ormsby. It was against my wish that you came here. But your vanity is -such that you must feast your eyes daily upon your future heritage of -Ravenhall."</p> - -<p>"It was neither the desire to see the Ravengar lands, nor the wish even -to be near you, that drew me to Ormsby, but a very different motive."</p> - -<p>"In the devil's name, what motive?" said Ivar, elevating his eyebrows -in surprise.</p> - -<p>"It is a part of the secret of my life. But, being here, here I remain. -And, Ivar, I must be acknowledged," she added firmly.</p> - -<p>"Of course: you are burning to exhibit yourself as Viscountess Walden; -to shine in ancestral diamonds; to reign at Ravenhall; to be queen of -the county-side; to be courted and admired at fêtes and balls."</p> - -<p>"No, Ivar, no; I care nothing for these things, but much for the name -of wife. To think that I must plead<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> with my own husband to redeem my -name from reproach! What have you to fear from your father's anger? As -you are his legitimate and only son he cannot deprive you of the title, -even if he would; as to the Ravengar estate, that is entailed, and must -therefore descend to you. Of what, then, are you afraid?"</p> - -<p>"It is true that the original estate, the estate of the first earl, is -entailed; but since his day the Ravengar lands have more than doubled. -These later acquisitions the governor can dispose of as he will. If -I offend him he may make them over to some one else, to Beatrice for -example, since she is a great favourite of his."</p> - -<p>"That's a temptation with me to reveal our marriage," said Lorelie with -a smile. "One half of the Ravengar estate would form a pretty dowry for -her and Mr. Breakspear."</p> - -<p>"Her and Breakspear?" Ivar repeated. "Is it your wish, then, that he -should marry Beatrice? That fellow may have saved your life," he added -darkly, "but it doesn't follow that you must seek to reward him with -the hand of my cousin."</p> - -<p>"Events are shaping themselves that way," Lorelie remarked quietly, -with a glance at the distant Beatrice, who was laughing gaily while -Idris bent over her. "And really it can be no concern of yours whom she -marries."</p> - -<p>"She is a Ravengar," replied Ivar, loftily. "There is the family name -to be considered. Pray, who is this insolent Breakspear, that first -makes love to you, and now aspires to Beatrice?"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Idris Breakspear——" began Lorelie, and then she stopped, -surprised at the look upon Ivar's face.</p> - -<p>"<i>Idris!</i>" said the viscount quickly. "Is his name Idris?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, why?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span></p> - -<p>"O, nothing. It's an uncommon name, that's all." With a half-laugh, he -added, more to himself than to Lorelie: "Idris Breakspear. Humph! Now -if it were Idris Marville!"</p> - -<p>It was now Lorelie's turn to be surprised. Till this moment she had -been unaware that the name of Idris Marville was known to her husband.</p> - -<p>"But, Ivar," she answered quietly, "Marville, and not Breakspear, -happens to be his true name."</p> - -<p>Lord Walden stopped short in his smoking, took the cigarette from his -lips, and stared open-mouthed at Lorelie with a look very much like -fear upon his face.</p> - -<p>"What do you say?" he muttered hoarsely. "Idris Marville. But, bah!" he -continued, an expression of relief clearing his features: "that can't -be the fellow I have in mind. My Idris Marville died at Paris seven -years ago."</p> - -<p>"And so did he—in the newspapers. For a reason of his own he let the -world think that he had perished in a hotel-fire."</p> - -<p>At this statement Ivar's agitation became extreme. The cigarette -dropped from his fingers; his face became livid.</p> - -<p>"Why should his being alive trouble you?" asked Lorelie, looking in -wonder at her husband.</p> - -<p>For some moments Ivar hesitated, and when at last his answer came, -Lorelie intuitively felt that he was not stating the true cause of his -disquietude.</p> - -<p>"You would marry that fellow to Beatrice?" he said, moistening his dry -white lips. "Why he is the son of a—a—felon: his father was tried for -murder at Nantes, and found guilty."</p> - -<p>"Have you made a point of studying the bygone criminal trials of -France? If not, how have you learned this?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I heard the story from—from my father," replied Ivar slowly, as if -reluctant to make the admission.</p> - -<p>At this Lorelie gave a very palpable start. A curious light came into -her eyes. She seemed as if struck by some new and surprising idea.</p> - -<p>"And how came <i>he</i> to learn it?"</p> - -<p>"He was in Brittany at the time of the trial, and could not avoid -hearing all about it. The crime created, as newspapers say, a great -sensation. For weeks the people of Nantes talked of little else."</p> - -<p>"Your father's ten years' absence from Ravenhall was spent in Brittany, -then?"</p> - -<p>"A portion of the time," replied Ivar, evidently uneasy under his -wife's catechism.</p> - -<p>"And so this murder-trial," observed Lorelie, with a thoughtful -air, "this trial which took place so far back as twenty-seven years -ago—that is before you and I were born—has formed a topic of -conversation between yourself and your father. What necessity led him -to talk of the matter to you?"</p> - -<p>But Ivar waived this question by asking one.</p> - -<p>"What has brought that fellow to Ormsby?" he said, nodding his head in -the direction of Idris.</p> - -<p>"He is trying to discover his father; for he believes, rightly or -wrongly, that Eric Marville is still alive. He has traced him to this -neighbourhood," she added, her eyes attentive to every variation in -Ivar's countenance.</p> - -<p>"And here he may end his quest," said the viscount, "for Eric Marville -was shipwrecked off this coast and drowned many years ago. At least, -that is my father's statement," he added in some confusion, and looking -like a man who has been unwittingly betrayed into a rash statement.</p> - -<p>"What was the name of the vessel in which Eric <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span>Marville went down?" -asked Lorelie, speaking as if she had never before heard of it.</p> - -<p>"<i>The—The Idris</i>," returned the viscount, giving the name with obvious -reluctance.</p> - -<p>There was on Lorelie's face a smile that somehow made Ivar feel as if -he had walked into a net prepared for him.</p> - -<p>"And how long ago is it since this vessel was wrecked?"</p> - -<p>"Twenty-two years ago."</p> - -<p>"Twenty-two years ago," murmured Lorelie, with the air of one making a -mental calculation, "will take us back to 1876."</p> - -<p>"October the thirteenth, 1876, if you wish for the exact date."</p> - -<p>"And was it not on this same night of October the thirteenth, 1876, -that your father the earl walked into Ravenhall after a mysterious -absence of ten years?"</p> - -<p>"What of that?"</p> - -<p>"O nothing! Mere coincidence, of course. And so," continued Lorelie, -with a retrospective air, "and so the foundering of the yacht <i>Idris</i> -is another of the little matters about which your father has conversed -with you. Strange that a peer of the realm should take such interest in -the fate of an escaped felon!" She paused, as if expecting Ivar to make -some reply, but he did not speak. "Well," she went on, "I will make -the confession that I, too, take an interest—a strong interest—in -this Eric Marville; nay, I will go so far as to say that to discover -what ultimately became of him is one of the objects that has led me to -Ormsby. And in pursuance of this object I have had the good fortune to -obtain from its present editor a copy of <i>The Ormsby Weekly Times</i>, -dated October 20th, 1876, in which paper there is given an account both -of the foundering of the yacht and also of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> the inquest upon the bodies -that were washed ashore. Now, as the coroner was unable to ascertain -either the name of the vessel, or the names of any of the men aboard, -is it not a little curious that the earl should know that the yacht was -called <i>Idris</i>, and that it carried on board one Eric Marville? How -comes your father to know more than could be elicited in the coroner's -court?"</p> - -<p>"Egad, you'd better ask him," returned Ivar sullenly.</p> - -<p>"Well, I must controvert your father on one point. Eric Marville was -<i>not</i> drowned. I have proof that he was on shore at the time the yacht -sank."</p> - -<p>The viscount was obviously startled by this statement.</p> - -<p>"Oh! then what became of him?"</p> - -<p>"Have I not said that I am trying to find out?"</p> - -<p>"You've got a difficult task before you. No one has heard of him since -the night of the wreck."</p> - -<p>"No one has heard of him by the name Marville, of course. He would not -be likely to adhere to a name that would suggest reminiscences of the -felon from Valàgenêt. He perhaps resumed his old family name."</p> - -<p>"His old family name," repeated Ivar. "What is your reason for -supposing that Marville was not his true name?"</p> - -<p>"Because it does not appear among the list of names in the peerage."</p> - -<p>"The peerage?"</p> - -<p>"Do you not know that Marville claimed to be a peer of the realm?"</p> - -<p>The viscount smiled, but it was obvious that he was ill at ease.</p> - -<p>"Felon in Brittany; peer in Britain. A likely story that! Odd that the -detectives and journalists did not discover the fact at the time of his -trial."</p> - -<p>"It is odd, as you say, Ivar. He certainly kept his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> secret well. I do -not think he revealed it even to his wife."</p> - -<p>"Which proves his lack of a coronet. It is not likely that he would -conceal from his wife the fact that he was heir to a peerage."</p> - -<p>"He doubtless had his reasons. Having perhaps quarrelled with his -family he may have left England forever, determined to begin life anew -in another land, and to hide his identity under an assumed name. An -imperial archduke of Austria has done the like in our time, and so -successfully, too, as to baffle all endeavours to trace him."</p> - -<p>"And, pray, to what peerage did this Marville lay claim?"</p> - -<p>"I do not know."</p> - -<p>"Dormant, or <i>in esse</i>?"</p> - -<p>"I do not know."</p> - -<p>"What was its rank? A baronage: a viscountship: a——"</p> - -<p>"I do not know."</p> - -<p>Ivar seemed rather pleased than otherwise with Lorelie's want of -knowledge.</p> - -<p>"Where, when, and under what circumstances, then, did Eric Marville -claim to be a peer?"</p> - -<p>"So far as I am aware he referred to it but once, and then to no more -than one person, a French military officer, now dead. 'I am heir to a -peerage and could take my rank to-morrow, if I chose,' were his words."</p> - -<p>"And that's all the evidence you have?"</p> - -<p>"All the evidence I have, Ivar."</p> - -<p>"Marville was boasting, beyond a doubt. Does that fellow," he -continued, glancing at Idris' distant figure, "know of his father's -claim to a peerage?"</p> - -<p>"He has not the least inkling of it."</p> - -<p>"You'll act wisely by keeping the notion out of his pate."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Why so?"</p> - -<p>"It's one thing to claim a peerage, but quite another thing to prove -one's claim. Why fill the fellow with false hopes? Be guided by me, and -refrain from telling him of his father's pretensions."</p> - -<p>"Very well, Ivar," responded Lorelie, quietly, "I will be guided by -you. As your wife it is my duty to do nothing to the detriment of your -future interests."</p> - -<p>For a moment the two stared curiously at each other.</p> - -<p>"My interests?" muttered the viscount. "I don't understand you."</p> - -<p>"I think you do," she said gravely. "But," she added, rising to her -feet, "I am neglecting my visitors," and so saying she moved off in the -direction of Idris and Beatrice, who were slowly pacing to and fro on -one side of the lawn.</p> - -<p>"Not even the coronet to console me now!" she murmured darkly. "A -fitting punishment this for my long and guilty silence! Justice, -justice, now thy scourge is coming upon me!"</p> - -<p>Ivar did not follow his wife, but sat motionless for some moments, -staring after her in blank dismay, and completely confounded by the -startling hints that she had let fall.</p> - -<p>"Idris Marville not dead," he muttered, removing with his handkerchief -the cold moisture that glistened on his forehead. "That fellow he! -Living here at Ormsby—in the same house with Beatrice! And Lorelie -suspects! Suspects? She <i>knows</i>. By God! supposing she tells him! But, -bah! she will not—she dare not—declare it; she stands to lose too -much." He recalled her words to the effect that she would do nothing -detrimental to his interests. The meaning of this assurance was -obvious, and Ivar breathed more freely. "She'll keep the secret for her -own sake. She'll not be so mad as to cut her own<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> throat. In marrying -her I've stopped her mouth. But if she had known as much a year ago as -she knows to-day——!"</p> - -<p>The smile had returned to Lorelie's lips by the time she reached Idris -and Beatrice, and at her invitation they repaired to the drawing-room. -Lord Walden, with a black feeling of hatred in his heart against both -his wife and Idris, slowly followed without speaking, and flung himself -on a distant ottoman as if desiring no companionship but his own.</p> - -<p>Idris, thus ignored by the viscount, could but ignore him in turn. -He had never beheld a more sullen and a more ungracious clown than -Lorelie's husband, and he much regretted that he had not followed his -first impulse to depart.</p> - -<p>The drawing-room was a handsome apartment, containing many evidences of -taste and wealth. Lorelie took a pride in pointing out her treasures.</p> - -<p>"My father," she remarked, observing Beatrice's eyes set upon a -portrait in oils representing a handsome man in the uniform of a French -military officer.</p> - -<p>Idris viewed with interest the likeness of the man who for about the -space of a minute had flashed across his childhood's days.</p> - -<p>"A man who will ever command my respect," he murmured, "since in -rescuing my father from prison he was forced by that act to become an -exile from his native land."</p> - -<p>An expression of pain passed over Lorelie's face.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Breakspear, you do not know what you are saying."</p> - -<p>"Forgive me. I promised never to allude to that event, and I am -breaking my word. I apologize."</p> - -<p>And he wondered, as he had often wondered, why reference to this -matter should trouble her. She had no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> cause to be ashamed of her -father's deed. Captain Rochefort's act in favour of a friend whom he -believed to be innocent was, from Idris' point of view, a gallant and -romantic enterprise, and in the judgment of most persons would deserve -condonation, if not approval.</p> - -<p>After the portrait of Captain Rochefort, what most interested Beatrice -was an antique vase standing upon the carved mantel. It was of gold, -set with precious stones, and the interior was concealed from view by a -tight-fitting lid.</p> - -<p>"What a pretty vase!" she said, and with Lorelie's sanction she lifted -it from the mantel. As she did so a cold tremor passed over her. She -placed the urn upon the table, and in a moment the feeling was gone. -She took up the vase again, and the unpleasant sensation returned. Was -this due to something exhaled from the interior of the urn? She drew a -deep breath through her nostrils, but failed to detect any odour.</p> - -<p>Puzzled and annoyed, Beatrice became morbidly curious to learn its -contents.</p> - -<p>"The lid fits very tightly," she said, addressing Lorelie. "How do you -remove it?"</p> - -<p>"It is secured by a hidden spring," replied the viscountess. "If you -can discover the secret, you will be doing me a favour, for I have -never been able to open it myself."</p> - -<p>"Then you do not know what treasure it may contain," smiled Beatrice. -"Attar of roses, spices from Arabia, pearls from the Orient, may lurk -within." She shook the urn, and a faint sound accompanied the movement. -"Listen! there is certainly something inside."</p> - -<p>"I am full of curiosity myself to know what it is," said Lorelie, "I -have spent hours in trying to discover the spring."</p> - -<p>"Then it is useless for me to try."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span></p> - -<p>But though Beatrice spoke thus, she nevertheless made the attempt, -toying with the vase and pressing various figures sculptured upon the -sides. All to no purpose. The jewels sparkled like wicked eyes, seeming -to mock her endeavours. The sound caused by the shaking of the urn -was like the collision of paper pellets, shavings of wood, or of some -other substance equally light. And all the time while handling the vase -Beatrice was conscious of a strange feeling of repulsion. What caused -it she could not tell: the fact was certain: the reason inexplicable.</p> - -<p>"Is this vase an heirloom?" she asked, desirous of learning whence -Lorelie had obtained it, and yet not liking to appear too curious.</p> - -<p>The viscountess hesitated a moment, evidently adverse to replying, and -then stooped over Beatrice and kissed her.</p> - -<p>"Will you think me discourteous, Beatrice, if—if I do not tell you how -I came by it?"</p> - -<p>While speaking she glanced aside at Ivar who, from his position on -the couch, was watching the scene with so perturbed an air that Idris -was led to believe there was some strange secret connected with this -vase—a secret known to both husband and wife. Great as was his love -for Lorelie, Idris was compelled to admit that she was very mysterious -in some of her ways.</p> - -<p>Then a strange thing happened.</p> - -<p>Idris, keenly attentive to all that was passing, observed a curious -expression stealing over Beatrice's face. Once before he had seen this -expression, namely, at the time when she gave her opinion on the piece -of steel taken from the Viking's skull. The pupils of her eyes were -contracted, and set with a bright fixity of gaze upon the jewelled urn. -The rigidity of her figure indicated a cataleptic state.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p> - -<p>Her lips parted, and in a voice strangely unlike her own, she said:—</p> - -<p>"The ashes of the dead!"</p> - -<p>At this Lorelie gave a faint cry and drew away the vase, glancing again -at Ivar. Then, with her hands she closed the eyes of Beatrice, and -shook her gently. Beatrice opened her eyes again, and looked around -with the surprised air of one aroused suddenly from sleep.</p> - -<p>"Do you know what you have been saying?" Lorelie asked.</p> - -<p>"No—what?"</p> - -<p>"That this is a funereal urn."</p> - -<p>"Have I been self-hypnotized again?"</p> - -<p>"Again?" repeated Lorelie. "Do you often fall into this state?"</p> - -<p>"Occasionally—when gazing too long at some bright object: and then the -object seems to whisper its history to me, or rather, as Godfrey more -sensibly remarks, my mind begins to weave all kinds of fancies around -it."</p> - -<p>"Why, you must be a clairvoyante," said Lorelie, studying the other -intently. "'The ashes of the dead?' Yes, this may be a crematory vase. -What do you say, Ivar?" she added, turning to the viscount.</p> - -<p>"Of course Beatrice knows," was his reply, "for is she not a daughter -of the gods, a descendant of a Norse prophetess? But, Beatrice, I think -that the blood of Hilda the Alruna must have become so diluted during -the course of ten centuries that your claim to the hereditary gift of -intuition is a little laughable."</p> - -<p>"I am not aware of having made any such claim," replied Beatrice, -quietly.</p> - -<p>"And such claim, if made, would be justified," retorted Idris, roused -by Lord Walden's sneering air, "for Miss Ravengar has given me previous -proof of possessing remarkable intuitive powers."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Let us say no more on the matter," said Lorelie, gently.</p> - -<p>She restored the urn to its place on the mantelpiece, and, desirous of -removing the somewhat unpleasant impression created by the incident, -immediately started a conversation on other topics.</p> - -<p>The talk turned presently upon literature, and Idris, remembering that -Lorelie was an author, said:—</p> - -<p>"Lady Walden, will you not give us a reading from your play?"</p> - -<p>"O, yes, do!" cried Beatrice, impulsively.</p> - -<p>Lorelie hesitated. The drama written by her had been a work of time and -patience: it was as near perfection as she would ever be able to bring -it: she had poured her noblest feelings into the work. But she knew -that what seems good to the author often seems bad to the critic: that -the thoughts, supposed to be original, prove to be merely echoes of -what others have said before in far better language: that the line that -separates eloquence from bombast is easily passable on the wrong side.</p> - -<p>These were the motives disposing Lorelie to keep her tragedy -to herself. The person who should have been the first to give -encouragement on this occasion was mute; for Ivar maintained an air of -indifference.</p> - -<p>"Deserves kicking," was Idris' secret comment, as he became conscious -of a suggestion of humiliation in Lorelie's manner, due to her -husband's want of appreciation. "And," he added to himself, "I should -very much like to do the kicking."</p> - -<p>Moved at last by the solicitations of her two visitors Lorelie produced -the manuscript of her play and prepared to read some portions of it.</p> - -<p>"This drama of mine, '<i>The Fatal Skull</i>'," she began, "derives its name -from the central incident in it—an incident of early Italian history. -Alboin, King of the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span>Lombards, had become enamoured of Rosamond, the -beautiful daughter of Cunimund, King of the Gepids. Both father and -daughter, however, rejected the suit, for Lombards and Gepids had long -been at feud. Embassies having failed, Alboin resolved to attain his -object by force, and, accordingly, entered the territories of Cunimund -with an army. In the battle that followed, the Gepid king was slain, -his forces put to the rout, and his daughter Rosamond became the prize -and the reluctant bride of the conqueror Alboin."</p> - -<p>"How dreadful," murmured Beatrice, "to be compelled to marry the man -who had slain her father!"</p> - -<p>"The sequel is more dreadful," returned Lorelie. "The death of Cunimund -was not sufficient to satiate the hatred of Alboin; the skull of the -fallen king, fashioned into a drinking cup, became the most treasured -ornament of his sideboard.</p> - -<p>"Feasting one day with his companions-in-arms, Alboin called for -the skull of Cunimund. 'The cup of victory'—to quote the words of -Gibbon—'was accepted with horrid applause by the circle of the Lombard -chiefs. "Fill it again with wine," exclaimed the inhuman conqueror, -"fill it to the brim; carry this goblet to the queen, and request -in my name that she would rejoice with her father." In an agony of -grief and rage, Rosamond had strength to utter, "Let the will of my -lord be obeyed," and, touching it with her lips, pronounced a silent -imprecation that the insult should be washed away in the blood of -Alboin.'"</p> - -<p>"And did she kill her husband?" asked Beatrice.</p> - -<p>"Yes, with the help of his armour-bearer Helmichis."</p> - -<p>Having thus set forth the argument, Lorelie, unfolding her manuscript, -began to read certain scenes from her play. The reading of them was a -revelation both to Idris and Beatrice: there was a masculine vigour -in the lines:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> the thoughts were as noble as they were original, and -graced by many poetic images and by passages of exquisite beauty.</p> - -<p>Charmed by the melody of Lorelie's voice, charmed still more by the -lovely face set in a frame of dark hair, Idris sat entranced, with -something more than admiration in his eyes. And as Beatrice observed -his rapt attitude, his accelerated breathing, she trembled uneasily; -not for herself, but for Lorelie. In the near future, when the young -viscountess should have come to learn the worthlessness of her husband, -and to experience the misery of existence with him, would she have -sufficient strength and purity of soul to resist the temptation of -flying to the arms of Idris? Their meeting with each other was a -foolish playing with fire, and could have but one ending. Beatrice -ceased to listen to the reading of the play, and grew miserable with -her own thoughts.</p> - -<p>"Lady Walden," said Idris, when she had finished her recital, "your -drama is a work of real genius."</p> - -<p>His praise was sweeter to Lorelie than the praise of a thousand other -critics, and her cheek flushed with triumph.</p> - -<p>"You certainly ought to have it put upon the stage," he continued.</p> - -<p>"Yes," chimed in Ivar: for even <i>his</i> sullen nature had been moved to -admiration: "you must not hide your light under a bushel. If one is a -genius, let the world know it."</p> - -<p>"If this play should ever be acted," said Lorelie, "then let <i>me</i> take -the chief part in it. Who more fit to play the <i>rôle</i> of Rosamond than -the creator of Rosamond?"</p> - -<p>"Well, whenever you desire to begin rehearsals," said Idris, jocularly, -"Miss Ravengar can supply you with one item of stage property in the -shape of a real skull."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span></p> - -<p>"But you would not drink from a real skull?" said Beatrice.</p> - -<p>"It would add to the effect," smiled Lorelie.</p> - -<p>"Drink from a real skull? Ah, how horrid!" exclaimed Beatrice.</p> - -<p>In reciting the words of the wronged and indignant Queen, Lorelie had -caught the genuine spirit of the character: and now, inspired by the -idea of becoming its exponent upon the stage, she rose to her feet, her -eyes sparkling as with the light of future triumph.</p> - -<p>As she stood upon the hearth in statuesque pose, she seemed to be -the very queen of tragedy, to be breathing, as it were, the air of -vengeance; a spirit so contrary to her usual sweet self that Idris did -not like to witness its assumption, however suitable it may have been -to the character of the fierce Rosamond.</p> - -<p>"I can see the eyes of the theatre riveted upon me," she murmured, -picturing to herself the future representation of her drama, "as I -enter the banqueting-hall of the Lombard chiefs, and advance to drink -from the fatal cup! How the audience will thrill as they watch! How -awful the silence as Rosamond places her lips to her father's skull!"</p> - -<p>She illustrated her words by taking the antique vase from the mantel -and going through the action of drinking from it, shuddering as she did -so; though whether her shudder was mere simulation, or a real thing -occasioned by the supposed nature of its contents was more than Idris -could tell.</p> - -<p>"And when the hour for vengeance came, I would rise to the height of -the occasion, and strike down Alboin—<i>so!</i>"</p> - -<p>Drawing from her hair a long and gleaming hairpin shaped like a -stiletto, she went through the motion of stabbing an imaginary figure.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span></p> - -<p>"'Die!'" she exclaimed, in an exultant tone, and quoting the words of -her play. "'This Rosamond sends.'"</p> - -<p>There was a weird roll of her glittering eyes as she flung out her left -hand tightly clenched: a swiftness and ferocity in the downward stroke -of the stiletto in her right, so suggestive of real murder that Idris -glanced at her feet, almost expecting to see a human figure lying there.</p> - -<p>Beatrice gave a cry of genuine terror. Ivar looked on with evident -admiration.</p> - -<p>For a few seconds Lorelie maintained a rigid bending pose, her eyes -dilated with terror, staring at the hearth as if she beheld something -there. Then, with a motion startling in its suddenness, she recovered -her erect attitude, and reeled backward with her lifted hand clenched -upon her brow. The stiletto dropped from her limp fingers, and the -peculiar ringing sound produced by its contact with the tiled hearth -was fresh in Idris' ears for many days afterwards.</p> - -<p>"'<i>A-a-ah!</i>'" she cried in a long-drawn thrilling sibilant whisper, -which, nevertheless, penetrated to every corner of the apartment, and -again quoting from her play. "'Ah! He moves! His eyes open! That look -of reproach! I dare not,'" she went on, gasping for breath, "'I dare -not strike again! Helmichis, do thou strike for me.'"</p> - -<p>With averted face she staggered back and dropped upon a couch, -apparently exhausted by real or simulated emotion.</p> - -<p>"Bravo! bravo!" cried Ivar, clapping his hands. "The divine Sarah -couldn't do it better. By heaven! we ought to have this play staged, -with you in the <i>rôle</i> of Rosamond. You'd be the talk of London."</p> - -<p>As for Idris, the <i>diablerie</i> of Lorelie's manner had given him a -sensation very much akin to horror.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p> - -<p>"What have I been witnessing?" he murmured. "A piece of acting merely, -or a reminiscence of a real tragedy?"</p> - -<p>Beatrice, deadly white, and with her eyes closed, lay back upon an -ottoman silent and motionless.</p> - -<p>"What do you say?" said Lorelie, coming quickly forward in response to -a remark from Idris.</p> - -<p>"I think Miss Ravengar has fainted," he repeated.</p> - -<p>"Egad! Lorelie," said Ivar, amused. "There's a tribute to your acting, -if you like."</p> - -<p>Lady Walden instantly busied herself in applying restoratives to the -swooning Beatrice.</p> - -<p>"I am sorry to have frightened you," she said in gentle tones to -Beatrice when the latter had recovered. "It was very absurd of me to -act so."</p> - -<p>But Lorelie's tenderness met with no response from Beatrice, whose eyes -were full of a wild haunting horror. She shrank from Lorelie's touch; -she avoided her glance; her whole manner showed that she was anxious -for nothing so much as to get away from her presence.</p> - -<p>"I—I think I'll go home now," she said, glancing at Idris. "Godfrey -will be waiting for us. We promised to return early."</p> - -<p>"The walk through the fresh air will do you good," remarked Idris, who -was himself desirous of withdrawing.</p> - -<p>It was in vain that Lorelie pressed her visitors to stay. Beatrice -declared that she must go, and within the space of a few minutes she -had taken a very abrupt leave of her hostess.</p> - -<p class="space-above">That night Idris' sleep was broken by troubled dreams, in all of which -a woman's image mingled, always in the act of striking down some -shadowy foe; but the venue was changed from the elegant apartment at -The Cedars to the grey stone interior of Ormfell!</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XIV</span> <span class="smaller">TOLD BY THE VASE</span></h2> - -<p>Next morning Idris strove to put aside the fear that had found -expression in his dreams, but the dark idea would persist in forcing -itself upon him. He grew angry with himself. Heavens! was he not master -of his own mind that he could not throw off this suspicion of the woman -whom he loved? Strange and mysterious Lorelie might be, but that she -was a taker of human life he found it impossible to believe.</p> - -<p>Doubtless it was true that a murder had taken place within Ormfell, -but that the crime had been wrought by a stiletto hairpin was merely a -conjecture on the part of Beatrice, who had no valid reason to offer in -support of her theory: yet, imbued with this fancy she was persistent -in maintaining that a woman must have been the author of the deed.</p> - -<p>Assuming it, however, to be a fact that the piece of steel was a -fragment of a hairpin, and the person who used it as an instrument of -death a woman, it did not follow because Lorelie had drawn a stiletto -pin from her hair in order to illustrate an assassination-scene in her -play, that he must identify her with the guilty woman.</p> - -<p>There was not only no evidence to connect Lorelie with the crime, but -much to prove the contrary. For instance, it requires a very long -period of time before a human body will become reduced to the state -of a skeleton such as that which Idris and Godfrey had found in the -interior of the ancient tumulus.</p> - -<p>But Lorelie's coming to Ormsby had taken place less<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> than five months -ago. Therefore, unless the remains had been brought from elsewhere, she -could have had no hand in the crime.</p> - -<p>But had the remains been brought from elsewhere? and was Godfrey wrong -in limiting the scene of the murder to the interior of Ormfell? With a -sudden thrill of surprise and fear Idris recalled the reliquary brought -to Ravenhall by Ivar on the night of his return from the continent. The -story of the viscount's midnight visit to the vault had been told him -in confidence by Godfrey, and Idris therefore knew that this mysterious -visit had some connection with Lorelie's affairs. The meaning of it all -had completely puzzled the two friends; but now, while pondering over -Ivar's action, Idris felt a return of all his misgivings.</p> - -<p>Oblivious of the flight of time he remained on his pillow occupied in -gloomy thought, and when at last he did get up and go down-stairs, he -found that he must breakfast alone, for Beatrice was absent, having -left a message with the maid to the effect that she had gone to The -Cedars.</p> - -<p>The Cedars of all places! How came it that Beatrice, after having -evinced such fear of Lorelie on the previous evening, should repair -thither the next morning? Was it to tell Lorelie of her suspicions? to -warn her that the crime was known? to put her on her guard?</p> - -<p>Some such motive must have actuated her: so Idris, thinking that he -could not do better than imitate her example, set off himself in the -direction of The Cedars.</p> - -<p>On his arrival he learned from the maid who opened the door that -Beatrice was in the drawing-room with Lorelie.</p> - -<p>"Let me see them, please."</p> - -<p>Without ascertaining whether his presence would be acceptable to her -mistress, the girl ushered him into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> the drawing-room with the words, -"Mr. Breakspear, ma'amzelle," and there left him.</p> - -<p>Idris looked around. No one was visible, but from the other side of -the curtains that draped one end of the room came the sound of voices. -The maid in introducing him had pronounced his name so softly that -apparently those behind the portière were unaware of his presence.</p> - -<p>The two curtains forming the portière not being closely drawn left an -opening, through which Idris, as he went forward, caught a glimpse of a -small boudoir. Both Lorelie and Beatrice were there.</p> - -<p>On the point of addressing them, he was suddenly stopped in his purpose -by something odd in the appearance and attitude of each.</p> - -<p>Beatrice occupied a position at a low table, upon which stood the -vase that had attracted her curiosity on the previous day, the vase -containing "the ashes of the dead."</p> - -<p>She sat erect and silent, her hands resting on her lap, her face as -rigid as if sculptured from marble: her attitude gave an impression -that if pushed she would fall over like a dead weight. Her eyes were -set upon the glittering vase with a curious far-off expression in them, -as if observant of some scene a thousand miles away.</p> - -<p>Facing her a few paces off, with her eyes concentrating all their -brightness and force upon Beatrice's face, sat Lady Walden. It was -clear at a glance that she held Beatrice's mind and will completely -under her own control.</p> - -<p>"As I live," murmured Idris, "she has hypnotized Beatrice. She is going -to conduct some experiment with the vase."</p> - -<p>Having an honourable man's aversion to play the spy he was about to -make his presence known, when, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span>suddenly, checked by some motive for -which he could not account, he determined to remain an unseen watcher.</p> - -<p>Lorelie rose and placed Beatrice's hands upon the vase, where they -rested, passive and limp. This movement was accompanied by a shiver on -the part of the medium. If the soul be capable of abstraction from the -body, Idris might have believed that Beatrice's soul had left her at -that moment to animate the vase, for the urn seemed to become instinct -with motion, and to sparkle with a new light.</p> - -<p>"Speak, Beatrice," said Lorelie in a solemn tone. "Speak from the -depth of this vase: listen to the voice of its quivering atoms: recall -from it the scenes and sounds of the past.—Tell me, what do you -feel—hear—see?"</p> - -<p>A hollow voice arose, a voice that sounded like a mockery of Beatrice's -tones: and although her lips moved, the words seemed to emanate, not -from her, but from the urn.</p> - -<p>"It is dark ... very dark ... nothing can be seen.... No sun ... no -stars ... no light.... All is cold ... and damp ... and still.... There -is no air ... or wind ... no life ... or motion.... It is like the -grave.... Above, beneath, on all sides, the earth presses.... Always -the earth around ... nothing but earth.... For ages and ages, deep down -in the ground."</p> - -<p>She repeated this last sentence several times.</p> - -<p>"For ages and ages, deep down in the ground."</p> - -<p>"What next?" asked Lorelie.</p> - -<p>"A sound ... faint ... far-off.... Now it comes nearer ... it is as -of a spade digging ... it is coming down ... down ... down.... The -earth above loosens ... <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span>disappears.... The blowing of fresh air ... -the gleam of daylight.... Now the blue sky looks down.... Lifted up -by strong hands to the glorious sunshine above.... It is the edge of -a pit.... Small pieces of gold mixed with earth lie about.... It is -spring-time.... The air is full of the sound of falling waters.... -There are green hills around, dark here and there with pines and -firs.... Above them snow shining in the sun.... There are men about -... digging ... men with deep blue eyes and flaxen hair.... They wear -close-fitting tunics.... Their legs are bare, crossed by thongs of -leather, ... They talk a strange language.... Now they stop digging ... -laugh ... and drink mead from ox-horns."</p> - -<p>Idris started, beginning to detect a glimmer of meaning in these -utterances, hitherto as dark as a Delphic oracle.</p> - -<p>"It is hot ... very hot.... There is a fire ... flames playing in -golden and ruddy hues on the rafters above.... Many pieces of metal -are stacked upon the shelves around.... Shields, spears, swords, all -newly-wrought, are lying about.... The clangour of the anvil arises.... -The red sparks fly around.... Men are moving to and fro, all busy.... -One is pouring molten metal into a clay mould.... It is liquid, glowing -gold.... He is casting a vase ... a funereal urn ... <i>this!</i>"</p> - -<p>Idris had heard something of the marvels of clairvoyance, but -clairvoyance like this fairly took his breath away. It was clear that -Beatrice was giving the whole history of the vase, from the time when -the metal composing it first issued from the earth in the shape of ore -in the old Norse fatherland!</p> - -<p>"It is a long, low, wooden hall. The lady is beautiful, with dark -eyes and raven hair. There are some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> maidens around. They are at -needlework. They have one long piece of cloth on their knees, and are -sewing different coloured threads into it. The lady directs them. Now -she moves towards the bed. There is some one lying on it, hidden by a -bearskin. At the head is the golden vase. The lady lifts the coverlet. -Beneath, there reposes a dead man, with yellow hair and beard. He lies -upon his shield, his spear and sword beside him. The lady falls across -the body weeping."</p> - -<p>This scene was clear enough to Idris' comprehension. The dark-haired -lady was the ancestress of Beatrice herself, Hilda the Alruna, mourning -the death of her husband, Orm the Viking: and the maidens were the -captive nuns who had wrought the figured tapestry that had decorated -the interior of Ormfell.</p> - -<p>"The maidens tremble as the stern-faced warriors enter the hall to -carry away the body of their chief. He is borne aloft to the place of -sepulture upon his brazen shield. The lady follows, clasping the urn to -her bosom."</p> - -<p>Beatrice paused for a moment, and then began another picture.</p> - -<p>"The green hill-tomb rises high in sunny air, and close by murmurs the -voice of the restless sea. The dead warrior is laid upon an altar of -wood. Many persons stand around. A fair-haired boy touches the pile -with a flaming torch. As he does so, a shout goes up to the sky."</p> - -<p>Though Beatrice's utterances were not marked by any rhythmic measure, -she nevertheless began to intone them to an air, which Idris -immediately recognized as the Ravengar Funeral March, the requiem that -had made so strange an impression upon him when played by Lorelie upon -the organ of St. Oswald's Church.</p> - -<p>"See the gleam of lifted lance and shield! Hark to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> the wailing of the -women, as they beat their breasts and rend their tresses for the death -of their great chief! List to the warriors, as they clash their brazen -bucklers with clanging sword-strokes! Now rises the wild barbaric song -of the long-haired scald, hymning to his harp the heroic deeds of the -dead, and chanting the dirge that shall never be forgotten by the -Raven-race. Upward mount the flames of the pyre. See how the maddened -raven, tied to the fagot with silken thread, flaps his wings and -screams with terror, pecking at the bond that holds him. The volumed -smoke hides him from view: the fire severs the thread: now he soars -heavenward, bearing the soul of the warrior to Valhalla. The fire burns -long, glowing in the breath of the breeze. Now it fades: glimmers: and -dies out. The lady draws near with the urn: within it are reverently -placed the ashes of the dead."</p> - -<p>Beatrice ceased her intonation, and continued in a quieter tone.</p> - -<p>"It is a square place, built of stone. Men are moving about. Some carry -torches. Others are decking the walls with tapestry, hanging it from a -metal rod. There is a stone receptacle in the centre. The dark-haired -lady places the urn within this, and retires. The lights vanish. All is -silence and darkness—silence and darkness."</p> - -<p>It was clear that Beatrice had been describing the incidents attending -the death and burial of Orm. Her account had cleared up one mystery. -The contents of the urn were nothing less than the ashes of the old -Viking, the ancestral dust from which Beatrice herself had sprung! This -completely answered the question as to what had become of his remains, -and furnished additional proof that the skeleton in the sarcophagus was -not that of Orm.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span></p> - -<p>But here a disquieting thought presented itself. Who had removed this -urn from the tomb in Ormfell, and in what way had Lorelie become -possessed of it? He dismissed the question for the moment in order to -listen to Beatrice who was speaking again.</p> - -<p>"Footsteps round about. Light shines through the interstices of the -tomb. Some one is speaking. It is the dark-haired lady. There is a man -with her. They take off the lid of the tomb and put in all kinds of -bright things—coins and rings: gold and silver ingots: cups, lamps, -precious stones, and the like. They sparkle in the light. The tomb is -full. They lay the rest on the floor. Now they steal away. The light -goes with them. Silence and darkness again."</p> - -<p>Thus far Beatrice's monologue had dealt with a period of history -distant by a thousand years, and had told Idris little that he did -not already know. Would she continue the story of the urn through the -succeeding centuries? Would she reach modern times, and speak of those -who had removed the treasure? would she describe the murder that had -taken place, and tell how the urn came to be in Lorelie's possession?</p> - -<p>Spellbound he waited for the sequel. If any one had told him that the -Viking's treasure was lying upon the roadway outside to be his own for -the mere trouble of walking thither, he would not have stirred from his -position.</p> - -<p>Beatrice had been silent for some time, when Lorelie, speaking in the -same tone of authority that she had used throughout, said:—</p> - -<p>"What comes next?"</p> - -<p>"The dropping of moisture from the roof."</p> - -<p>"What next?"</p> - -<p>"Silence and darkness."</p> - -<p>Idris began to think that he was doomed to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span>disappointment. Each scene -described by Beatrice had been followed by an interval, sometimes long, -sometimes short, apparently proportionate to the actual length of time -that had elapsed between each event. How many minutes were to serve -as a measure of the space that separated the age of Orm from the date -of the removal of the treasure? Not so many, he trusted, as to cause -Lorelie to bring her experiment to a close.</p> - -<p>"How much time is passing?"</p> - -<p>"Centuries—long centuries—centuries of silence and darkness."</p> - -<p>For a long time Beatrice continued to sit without speaking. At length, -to Idris' satisfaction, she resumed her monologue.</p> - -<p>"A muffled noise like a spade digging. The falling of earth. Some one -is going to enter."</p> - -<p>"Is this person the first to enter the hillock since the days of the -dark-haired lady?"</p> - -<p>"The very first.—Cool air blows down the passage, filling the chamber -with its freshness. It penetrates the chinks of the tomb."</p> - -<p>"Are there several men, or only one?"</p> - -<p>"One only."</p> - -<p>"What is he doing?"</p> - -<p>"He waits a long time at the entrance. Now he comes forward along the -passage. He carries a light: it gleams through the interstices of the -tomb. He walks about, his feet striking against pieces of metal. He -seems to be picking up some. Now, with a cry, he drops them. They ring -on the hard earth. There are fresh footsteps coming along the passage. -Coming quickly, too!"</p> - -<p>Beatrice's voice had lost some of its cold ring: she seemed to be less -of an automaton and more of a living woman, capable of being moved by -what she saw and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> heard. Idris did not fail to notice the change. It -was an agreeable change, but ominous for his hopes. She seemed to be -emerging from her trance: emerging, too, at a very significant point of -the story.</p> - -<p>He noticed, too, that Lorelie's interest had kept pace with his own: -there was on her face a look of painful anxiety that had been entirely -absent in the earlier stages of the experiment.</p> - -<p>"A second man has entered the place. There is a silence. They seem to -be standing still, looking at each other. Now they walk to and fro -speaking."</p> - -<p>"What do they say?"</p> - -<p>"Their voices are hushed! Ha! A sound like the tearing of cloth. -The dull thud as of a body falling to the earth. A gasp, and all is -still. The footsteps move about again. It seems as if only one man -is there. He comes slowly forward and approaches the tomb. He places -the light upon the floor. He is going to lift the lid. It is heavy. -He can scarcely move it. He pushes it aside with his hands. Ah!" she -exclaimed in a tone of disgust, "ah! his fingers are wet with blood. -Some drops fall into the tomb. Oh!" she gasped in the voice of one who -suddenly realizes an awful truth. "Oh! he is a murderer! He has killed -the other. He peers into the tomb. The lamp on the floor lights up his -face. I can see the sparkle of his eyes. <i>Oh! it is——</i>"</p> - -<p>In sheer horror Beatrice paused as if recognizing the visionary face.</p> - -<p>"What! You know him," cried Lorelie, wildly: and to Idris' mind there -was as much horror in her voice as in that of Beatrice. "You know him? -Who is it?"</p> - -<p>Instead of replying Beatrice tried to lift her hands as though their -removal from the vase would dissolve the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> terrible vision. Lorelie came -swiftly forward and stayed her action with an imperative gesture.</p> - -<p>Much as Idris felt the necessity for intervention, he refrained, for he -was as eager for the name as Lorelie herself.</p> - -<p>"You recognize him?" cried Lorelie. "Who is it? His name? Who has more -right to know it than I? Speak! God of heaven, I'll wrest the name -from you, though you were dying—— No! stop! silence!" she suddenly -exclaimed. "Do not say the name."</p> - -<p>Eager to learn the secret Idris had been incautiously pressing against -the silken portière, and even in the midst of her agitation, Lorelie -had seen the movement of the curtain.</p> - -<p>There was a moment's silence, and then she cried:—</p> - -<p>"Who is there?"</p> - -<p>"A friend," replied Idris: and seeing that he was discovered he lifted -the curtain and entered the recess. "Let us have the name, and then——"</p> - -<p>"It was honourable of you to play the spy!" said Lorelie, coldly: and -Idris could not help feeling that he deserved the reproach.</p> - -<p>"Miss Ravengar," he said, stepping up to Beatrice and taking both her -hands in his own: "tell me whose face you see peering into the tomb."</p> - -<p>"A face peering into the tomb? I—I don't understand."</p> - -<p>Beatrice's voice had assumed its sweet natural ring. From her low seat -she looked up at Idris with the light of gladness in her eyes at seeing -him, a colour on her cheek at finding her hands clasped in his.</p> - -<p>For a moment he eyed her keenly, thinking that in order to shield -the guilty person she was going to deny the recognition. Then the -truth flashed upon him. She had emerged from her hypnotic trance. On -detecting his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> presence the viscountess by some quick sleight of hand -must have restored her to her normal state of mind.</p> - -<p>Beatrice's wondering eyes showed that she was entirely ignorant of the -story that had flowed from her lips.</p> - -<p>That story had accomplished one good end. She had spoken of the -assassin as a man, and a weight was lifted from Idris' mind. Thank -heaven, Lorelie was not the author of the deed! But a troubling thought -remained. Was she a friend of the assassin, an accessory after the -fact? If not, why was she so anxious to conceal his name?</p> - -<p>A question or two on the part of Idris elicited the fact that it was -Beatrice herself who had suggested the experiment with the vase. -Lorelie, who was versed in the art of hypnotism, had readily assented, -being as eager as Beatrice to learn its secret.</p> - -<p>And now that the experiment was over Beatrice looked from Lorelie to -Idris, and from Idris to Lorelie, wondering why each seemed so grave.</p> - -<p>"What have I been saying?" she asked.</p> - -<p>Lorelie turned to Idris. "How long have you been here?"</p> - -<p>"From the beginning of your experiment," he answered.</p> - -<p>"Then Beatrice shall learn the story from you."</p> - -<p>"But the story lacks completion. You left the experiment unfinished at -its most interesting point.—Lady Walden," continued Idris, gravely, -"you know now, if you did not know before, that a murder was committed -within the interior of Ormfell. Justice requires that the murderer -should be punished."</p> - -<p>"Go on," she murmured, as he paused.</p> - -<p>"That urn," he continued, pointing to the golden vase, "formed a part -of the treasure that led to the crime.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> Whoever gave you the urn was -either the assassin, or obtained it through the agency of the assassin."</p> - -<p>Idris paused again, and Lorelie herself uttered the question that was -in his mind.</p> - -<p>"And, therefore, you would learn the name of the giver?"</p> - -<p>Idris bowed.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Breakspear, you ask too much."</p> - -<p>"You desire to shield a murderer?"</p> - -<p>"That is nothing new—with me. I have been doing that for many years."</p> - -<p>No look could be more mournful than that accompanying her words.</p> - -<p>"You will not give me the name that was trembling upon the lips of Miss -Ravengar?"</p> - -<p>"I did not hear it," replied Lorelie, evasively.</p> - -<p>"But you have formed a suspicion?"</p> - -<p>"My suspicions might compromise the innocent, even as I myself have -been compromised," she added, with a reproachful glance at Beatrice.</p> - -<p>"Forgive me," murmured Beatrice, with drooping eyes.</p> - -<p>"Are we not all liable to error?" said Lorelie, kissing her tenderly. -"I commend your frankness in coming to state your suspicions, painful -though it was for me to listen. No; though fallen from what I might -be, I have not yet stooped to murder." And then, turning to Idris, she -said:—</p> - -<p>"If I refuse your request I do so in order that I may not rashly accuse -the innocent. When I have verified my suspicions, you shall know the -truth: for, if I am not mistaken, no one will have more right to the -knowledge than yourself. And then," she added, with a melancholy smile, -"then it may be that you will find your desire for justice evaporating."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XV</span> <span class="smaller">A PACKET OF OLD LETTERS</span></h2> - -<p>For more than an hour after the departure of Idris and Beatrice, -Lorelie remained where they had left her. She had sunk into a deep -reverie, which, judged by the expression of her face, was of a painful -character.</p> - -<p>"Whence did Ivar obtain that vase?" she murmured. "He has always -refused to tell. 'Take it, and ask no questions,' has always been his -answer. "'That urn,'" she continued, repeating Idris' words, "'formed -a part of the treasure that led to a murder. Whoever gave you the urn -was either the assassin, or obtained it through the agency of the -assassin.' Ivar gave it to me, but he was not the assassin. No! the -deed was wrought by the hand of one who escaped from the wreck of -the <i>Idris</i>. Let me read those letters again in the light of the new -knowledge acquired to-day."</p> - -<p>She rose, and from a drawer in a cabinet took a packet of letters.</p> - -<p>"What would Idris Breakspear give to read these!" she murmured. "But -the day is not far distant when I must put them into his hands; and -then," she faltered, "and then—how great will be his contempt for me!"</p> - -<p>Carrying the letters to the table she sat down and untied the thread -that bound them.</p> - -<p>The first one was written in a woman's hand; and the envelope -containing it bore the words, "To my daughter Lorelie."</p> - -<p>Madame Rochefort had, when dying, given this letter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> to Lorelie with -the injunction that it was not to be read till after its writer had -been laid in the grave.</p> - -<p>"Dearest Lorelie," it ran, "it may be that the disclosure contained -in this letter will cause you to view the memory of your mother with -feelings of shame, if not of contempt: but leave the judgment of my -conduct, or, if you should so term it, my sin, to that higher tribunal -before which I now stand, and be not too quick to condemn, since no -woman can rightly judge me unless she herself has stood in a similar -position to mine.</p> - -<p>"You will surmise by these words that I have some strange confession to -make, and such in truth is the case.</p> - -<p>"You, my daughter, in common with the rest of the world, have hitherto -regarded Eric Marville as a murderer, and your father, Noel Rochefort, -as a man of stainless honour. Learn now the truth that these opinions -must be reversed: it was your father, and not Eric Marville, that -murdered Henri Duchesne. And for twenty years I have kept this guilty -secret locked within my breast, shielding my husband's reputation to -the injury of another's.</p> - -<p>"Let me tell the tale, and that in as few words as possible, for it is -a melancholy reminiscence; why should I linger over it?</p> - -<p>"I married your father in 1869.</p> - -<p>"During the first year of our wedded life we lived at Nantes, your -father's regiment having been stationed there.</p> - -<p>"Our circle of friends included, besides others, the Englishman, -Eric Marville; and the Gascon, Henri Duchesne. The latter, some -years before, had been a suitor for my hand; and to my uneasiness I -discovered that though he himself was now married, he had not abandoned -his passion for me. I remained deaf to his advances. Thereupon his love -turned to hatred, and, desirous of evoking my husband's suspicion and -jealousy,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> he had the baseness to boast among his friends that he had -found in me an easy conquest. Though full of secret fury your father -hesitated to send a challenge, since Duchesne was deadly with pistol -and sword: to face him in duel was to face certain death.</p> - -<p>"Your father was a Corsican and took a Corsican's way of avenging -himself.</p> - -<p>"One memorable summer night I was sitting alone in the upper room of -our house, which overlooked the Place Graslin, awaiting the return -of your father from the Armorique Club. The hour was late. All was -quiet in the square below. I opened the window and looked out upon the -moonlit night. A footstep upon the pavement attracted my attention, -and stepping forwards I looked downwards over the rail of the veranda. -Henri Duchesne was standing below: he looked up, saw me, and kissed -his hand. At that moment, from the shadow of the doorway, there leaped -a man whose fingers immediately twined themselves around Duchesne's -throat. Though taken by surprise he instantly recovered himself, and -drew forth a dagger, the recent gift, as I afterwards learned, of Eric -Marville.</p> - -<p>"I tried to call for help, but found myself dumb with horror. Mutely I -leaned against the rail of the veranda watching the silent and savage -death-grapple taking place beneath my very feet. The dagger changed -hands: a swift stroke, and Duchesne lay stretched upon the pavement.</p> - -<p>"The whole affair did not last more than a minute. I recoiled from the -veranda, cold and trembling. Though I had not seen his face I knew only -too well who it was that had wrought the deed.</p> - -<p>"I staggered to a sofa and fainted.</p> - -<p>"When I awoke, your father was sitting beside me.</p> - -<p>"'It was a dream,' I murmured.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p> - -<p>"'It was no dream, Thérèse, but reality, nor do I regret the deed. He -sought your dishonour. He deserved to die. It was an act of justice.'</p> - -<p>"'Let us fly from Nantes before you are discovered,' I said.</p> - -<p>"'Unwise! Stationed here with my regiment, and living close to the -scene of the deed, I dare not fly. Suspicion would fall upon me at -once.'</p> - -<p>"Next day we heard that Eric Marville had been arrested for the murder. -'Have no fear on his account,' said your father to me. 'He did not -commit the deed: how, then, can they prove that he did?' The trial drew -nigh, and to my dismay I learned that I, as being present in the house -at the time of the murder, was cited to give evidence. Your father, -anticipating every kind of question that could be put, instructed me -what to say, and for many days continued drilling me in the answers -I was to give. When the time came for me to take my place in court I -stood up and swore an oath—heaven forgive the falsehood!—that I was -asleep at the time of the murder, and heard nothing whatever of the -scuffle.</p> - -<p>"The trial ended: the prisoner was found guilty, and condemned to the -guillotine. Never shall I forget Madame Marville's cry of agony when -the sentence was pronounced. How often in the dead of night have I -started from sleep with that cry ringing in my ears!</p> - -<p>"From the tribunal I returned home heart-broken by the black wickedness -of which I had been guilty. If Marville died, what was I but his -murderess?</p> - -<p>"'Noel,' I said, that same night, 'you will not let the innocent -suffer?'</p> - -<p>"'What would you have me do?' was his reply. 'Walk to the guillotine -instead of him? Upon my word, you are an affectionate wife!'</p> - -<p>"I shuddered, for he spoke truth. I could prove the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> innocence of Eric -Marville only at the price of Noel's death.</p> - -<p>"Was it for the wife to bring her husband to the guillotine?</p> - -<p>"How I preserved my reason at this time I do not know. It came -somewhat as a relief to learn that Marville's sentence was changed to -imprisonment for life.</p> - -<p>"'If you may not prove his innocence,' I said, 'there is one thing you -can do for him. Aid him to escape from prison to some far-off land, -where he may live in happiness with his wife and child.'</p> - -<p>"'Ah! I might do that,' your father replied. The notion seemed to -appeal to his spirit of daring and adventure. 'That's a devilish good -idea of yours, Thérèse. There would be a dash of excitement in it! -Only,' he added, gloomily, stopping in his walk, 'it will mean the -utter ruin of my career. It is whispered that the Ministry intend to -appoint me to the next Colonial Governorship. I should like to see the -fellow free, but his rescue must be left to others. It cannot be done -by me. I should have to escape with him, and become exiled from France -forever. No! no! it's impossible.'</p> - -<p>"But I would not let the idea sleep. I gave him no rest, continually -urging him to the work of rescue, even threatening to reveal the -truth in connection with the murder, till at last, wearied by my -importunities, he matured a plan for Marville's rescue. The result you -know. After an imprisonment of five years Eric Marville escaped from -Valàgenêt Prison, and was hurried on board the yacht <i>Nemesis</i> that -was waiting for him in Quilaix Bay. Your father went with him; as a -law-breaker he could not remain in France. I would have accompanied -their flight, but the hour of your birth was drawing near. It had -been arranged, therefore, that I should join them at a later date. -Alas! I never set eyes upon your father<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> again. He corresponded with -me at irregular intervals, but after a lapse of eighteen months his -letters ceased. The yacht in which he was cruising from place to place -foundered off the English coast, and I have no reason to believe that -he escaped a watery grave.</p> - -<p>"If thus certain of his death, why, you may ask, did I not immediately -make known the truth concerning the murder?</p> - -<p>"Fear for myself, love for you, were the motives prompting me to -concealment.</p> - -<p>"I was an accessory after the fact, a perjurer likewise, and therefore -amenable to the law. You were a babe of eighteen months, pretty -and charming, the light of my life. To proclaim the truth meant -imprisonment for me, separation from you; and withal, disgrace upon our -common name. I could not bear the thought of this, and, therefore, deaf -to the voice of justice, I continued to keep the truth hidden.</p> - -<p>"But now, assured by the physician that I have not many days to live, I -dare not die without making you the confidante of my guilty secret.</p> - -<p>"This letter, signed with my name, together with your father's -correspondence, which is contained in my private desk, will afford -sufficient evidence of the innocence of Eric Marville.</p> - -<p>"To you, then, my daughter, I leave the duty of clearing the memory -of an injured man, hoping that you will be brave enough to face the -consequent ignominy which must forever rest upon our name.</p> - -<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Thérèse Rochefort.</span>"</p> - -<p>Lorelie laid down the letter with a sigh.</p> - -<p>"But I was not brave enough," she murmured.</p> - -<p>Her father, Noel Rochefort, was credited with having destroyed a -brilliant future by his chivalrous enterprise<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> of rescuing from prison -a friend whom he deemed to be innocent: and, as the daughter of such, -Lorelie, wherever she went, found herself an object of interest and -sympathy, almost a heroine. Must she now proclaim that her father, the -supposed hero, was in reality a murderer, and one, too, so base that in -order to save his own neck he would have seen an innocent man, and his -friend, go to the guillotine?</p> - -<p>She was sixteen years of age at the time of her mother's death, and -lovely in face and figure; her friends flattered her vanity by averring -that with her beauty and accomplishments she might win the love of a -nobleman, or even of a prince! But what nobleman or prince would marry -the daughter of a felon? Therefore, she resolved to let the truth be -hidden. If Eric Marville were still living he was free; let him rejoice -in that fact: if dead, her attestation of his innocence would do him no -good. True, she knew that Marville had left a son, who must often have -felt shame at the stigma resting on his name. But this son would now -be twenty-three years of age; he had grown up, she cynically argued, -accustomed to the feeling, whereas in her case the knowledge had come -upon her with a sudden and overwhelming shock. She pictured the pitying -looks of her friends, the gibes of the malicious (for her beauty -had made for her many enemies), and she shrank from facing the new -situation. No: let the unknown Idris Marville bear the disgrace that of -right belonged to her. And when, a month or two later, she learned from -the newspapers that this same Idris Marville had perished in a fire at -Paris, she felt a sense of relief.</p> - -<p>But retribution was to follow!</p> - -<p>The day came when her life was in such danger that she must have -perished but for the providential help of a certain stranger; and when -that stranger proved to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> none other than the Idris Marville whom she -was wronging by her guilty silence, her feeling of remorse was so great -that she was almost tempted to leap from the rock into the sea. To -withhold the truth was pain, yet to declare it would be to earn Idris' -contempt. Every kindly word, every pleasant look on his part, had gone -to her heart like so many thrusts of steel.</p> - -<p>The irony of fate! She had married Viscount Walden in the expectation -of succeeding to a coronet, and now the belief was gradually forming -in her mind that Idris was the rightful heir of Ravenhall: Beatrice -Ravengar, and not herself, was destined to be the Countess of Ormsby.</p> - -<p>O, if at the age of sixteen, and following the dictates of justice, -she had tried to find Idris Marville, and finding, had given him her -mother's written confession, how different her life might have been! -Idris would perhaps have been attracted by her then as he had been -seven years later. But now? She was united to a husband whom she felt -to be worthless: a husband who had ceased to care for her: a husband -whose title of right belonged to Idris.</p> - -<p>"I am justly punished," she murmured, bitterly.</p> - -<p>The remaining contents of the packet drawn by Lorelie from the -escritoire consisted of the correspondence mentioned by Madame -Rochefort in her inculpatory letter.</p> - -<p>Arranging these missives according to the order of time in which they -were written Lorelie took up the first, which dealt with the events -that followed upon the flight from Quilaix.</p> - -<blockquote><p class="right">"The Pelayo Hotel, Pajares.<br /> -25th April, 1875. </p> - -<p>"The newspapers will already have told you how <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span>admirably the -rescue was planned and carried out, so I need not dwell upon that -point.</p> - -<p>"There was, however, one awkward hitch in the arrangement—the -death of Mrs. Marville: but I am not to blame for <i>that</i>. Had Eric -listened to me it would not have happened; my intention was to -proceed direct to the yacht: he would turn aside to take his wife -with him: now he has no wife.</p> - -<p>"Eric Marville is free, and I hope you are satisfied.</p> - -<p>"The superscription of this letter will show you that we are no -longer on board the <i>Nemesis</i>.</p> - -<p>"'What is Pajares?' you may ask. A mere hamlet on the northern -slope of the Asturian Sierras, so high up as to be almost in the -clouds: and the building dignified with the name of hotel is but a -miserable log <i>posada</i>.</p> - -<p>"How we come to be here is soon told.</p> - -<p>"To fly from Quilaix to the open sea was an easy task: the -difficulty was to attain dry land again in safety; for, as -our romantic escapade would form the chief topic in all the -newspapers, it was pretty certain that at every port a watch would -be kept for our yacht. We feared putting into harbour. But land we -must—somewhere. We could not cruise forever on the open main. How -to land without detection was the problem.</p> - -<p>"Chance decided our course of action. We lay becalmed in a wild -rocky bay off the Asturian coast. Anchoring a mile from land we -swept the shore with the glass: there was neither village nor -human dwelling visible, not a living creature in sight. It was the -very spot for our purpose; and, as if to favour us still more, a -mist came on. Marville proposed that we should go ashore in the -boat, and get rid of the tell-tale yacht by scuttling it there and -then. I was compelled to agree to this plan, for I could devise -none better. It went to my heart to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> watch the beautiful <i>Nemesis</i> -sinking out of sight forever, but it would have gone to my heart -still more to be captured by a French cruiser, and provided with a -cell at Valàgenêt.</p> - -<p>"Fortunately, the sea was as smooth as glass and the wind still -as we rowed off, otherwise enveloped in a fog on an ironbound -coast we might have fared ill. We ran the boat ashore in safety, -destroyed it immediately afterwards, and paid off our crew, who -were as glad as ourselves to be quit of the yacht, for they, -too, as fellow-conspirators in the rescue-plot, were amenable to -justice.</p> - -<p>"We dispersed: and since the crew went eastward, Marville and -I turned our faces westward, and walking all night as chance -directed, found ourselves at early dawn at Gijon, where we rested. -We assumed the character of pedestrian tourists. From Gijon we -moved on to Oviedo, and thence to the mountain-hamlet of Pajares, -where I write this.</p> - -<p>"I have found Marville far from being a pleasant companion: the -death of his wife has gloomed his spirits, and has poisoned the -pleasure he might otherwise derive from his newly-acquired freedom.</p> - -<p>"His talk, on the few occasions when he <i>does</i> talk, turns mainly -upon that accident, and upon the look of horror which his boy gave -him. 'He will never want to see me again,' he mutters moodily.</p> - -<p>"I was not sorry when he proposed that we should part. He saw -that his gloom was an ill-match for my cheerful nature. With his -love of mountaineering he resolved to cross the sierras, and to -penetrate into Leon. He set off without a guide. From the door -of the <i>posada</i> I watched him ascending the mountain-path, his -solitary black form outlined against the white snow. He dwindled -to a speck, and that was the last I saw of him. Shall we ever see -each other again? He forgot to make<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> arrangements for a future -meeting, and I didn't remind him of the point.</p> - -<p>"He has done me irreparable injury. For him I have wrecked a -brilliant military career, lost a Colonial Governorship, and -made myself an exile forever from <i>la belle France</i>. Why should -I confess the deed to him? Haven't I made the fellow sufficient -atonement?"</p></blockquote> - -<p>Lorelie took up another letter, which was dated more than a twelvemonth -after the first.</p> - -<blockquote><p class="right">"Hôtel d'Angleterre, <br /> -Salerno, <br />10th May, 1876.</p> - -<p>"I verily believe that the continual mention of an absent evil has -the power of causing that evil to appear. In every one of your -letters you have alluded, despite my forbiddance, to Eric Marville -and his innocence. Your persistency in this respect seems to have -raised him up again from the things of the past—a past I was -beginning to forget.</p> - -<p>"You can guess what is coming.</p> - -<p>"I have met with Eric Marville. More than a year has passed since -I parted from him in the village inn of Pajares, hoping never more -to set eyes upon him: and now his disturbing presence is with me -again. 'Disturbing?' you say. Yes. You know the aphorism, 'We hate -those whom we have injured;' and I suppose I <i>have</i> injured him: -you so often say it in your letters that I have come at last to -believe it.</p> - -<p>"What folly led me to Campania? I might have foreseen our meeting; -for, prior to the rescue, did not I transfer his banking account -under an assumed name to Messrs. Stradella, of Naples?</p> - -<p>"But to our meeting.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Yesterday I made an excursion to Paestum, and, fortunately, had -the place to myself. Not one tourist was there. Solitary and -charmed I wandered for a whole day among the magnificent ruins of -the past.</p> - -<p>"Amid the stillness of a lovely twilight I sat down at the base -of a marble column belonging to the Temple of Neptune. The whole -circle of the sky, from the wine-dark sea before me to the peaks -of the cypress-clad mountains behind, was flushed with the deep -violet hues to be seen only in this southern clime.</p> - -<p>"I smoked a cigar and drank in the pure air of peace. It was a -time disposing one to turn poet, monk, or somebody equally moral. -I had almost forgotten that night at Nantes.</p> - -<p>"Suddenly my eye caught sight of a shadow. I looked up; and there -was Eric Marville watching me with an expression that made me feel -uneasy, I could not tell why.</p> - -<p>"On seeing that I had noticed him he came forward. He did not -offer his hand, but smiled mysteriously, almost exultantly, so it -seemed to me, and took a seat opposite me on a fallen pillar.</p> - -<p>"At first we talked commonplaces. Presently he remarked:</p> - -<p>"'I am going yachting among the fiords of Norway. You must -accompany me.'</p> - -<p>"His manner implied that <i>he</i> was master and <i>I</i> servant! Why -should he desire me for his <i>compagnon de voyage</i>, seeing that, as -matters are at present, we are so unlike each other, he gloomy, I gay?</p> - -<p>"'There is a fine yacht for sale at Naples. The price is moderate. -I propose that we divide it between us.'</p> - -<p>"Do you believe, Thérèse, that man is a free agent, with full -control over his own actions? Of course you answer 'Yes'; your -father-confessor has preached the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> doctrine a hundred times. I -answer 'No'! How, otherwise, can I account for my conduct? I hate -the fellow; I do not wish to go yachting; I have a presentiment -that ill will come of it. Nevertheless, I have given him my -promise. Explain <i>that</i>, if you can."</p></blockquote> - -<blockquote><p class="right">"The Hôtel Crocelle, Naples,<br /> -2d June, 1876. </p> - -<p>"The transfer of the yacht is complete. It is as pretty a vessel -as one could desire. Over it my first open variance with Marville -arose. I say 'open,' because, secretly, we have been in a state of -hostility to each other since the day of our meeting at Paestum.</p> - -<p>"Marville was desirous of changing the name of our new-bought -yacht. I suggested <i>Lorelie</i>, after the little daughter whom I -trust one day to see; he wished it to be called <i>Idris</i>, after -<i>his</i> child. The spin of a coin decided the point in his favour. -The crew are all English, and have given proof of it. When -Marville ordered the new name to be painted, they begged him not -to rechristen the vessel, declaring that to do so would bring -ill-luck. Marville treated their opinion with contempt. He rolled -up his shirt-sleeves, slung a plank over the side, and set to work -himself, painting the name <i>Idris</i> as if to the manner born. Two -of the crew deserted in consequence. Strange that English sailors, -so bold in fight, should be so superstitious!"</p></blockquote> - -<blockquote><p class="right">"The Yacht <i>Idris</i>, Gibraltar,<br /> -7th July, 1876. </p> - -<p>"Marville is a wretched companion. Twelve months of freedom ought -to have made him as bright and gay as in the old days, instead of -which he is the same melancholy being who left me at Pajares, with -only one topic of conversation—his unjust conviction.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You ask me whether I shall ever tell him that it was I who slew -Duchesne? You might as well ask me whether I want my throat cut at -once? That little affair at Nantes was the beginning of a train of -circumstances that ended in the death of his wife. He would hold -me primarily responsible for this last unlucky accident. Tell him -the true story! I would as soon tell the Minister of Justice, who -would at least see that I had a fair trial, whereas Marville, in -his present state of gloom, is incapable of listening to reason. -Yesterday, while toying with his knife at dinner, he muttered, 'I -would that the assassin of Duchesne were before me now!' You can -guess how I felt at those words. I am in a trying situation. Every -day I have to listen to a new theory accounting for the cause of -the murder, with remarks as to how an intelligent detective ought -to set to work. It is not enough for me to smoke in silence; -he wants to hear theories from <i>me</i> on the matter, and becomes -angry because I have none to give. I wish to God he would talk of -something else besides the one everlasting theme! I feel that I -shall be betraying myself some day.</p> - -<p>"You remember the silver altar-ring engraved with runic letters, -the ring that he entrusted to my secret keeping on the morning of -his arrest? After his trial I handed the relic to his wife, but -scarcely knowing why, I made a copy of the runic inscription. This -copy happened to be among my papers on board the <i>Nemesis</i>, and, -believe me, when leaving the sinking yacht, Marville betrayed more -concern over this wretched piece of writing than over anything -else on board.</p> - -<p>"It seems that he has been studying my transcript during the past -year, trying to extract some meaning from it: and though failing -hitherto, he still perseveres.</p> - -<p>"He talks oddly at times, and I am beginning to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span>believe that his -mind is unhinged. He declared to-day that he is the rightful heir -to a peerage, and could take his rank to-morrow if he chose. Of -course I believe this!"</p></blockquote> - -<blockquote><p class="right">"The Yacht <i>Idris</i>, Penzance,<br /> -12th July, 1876. </p> - -<p>"If you perceive a difference in my penmanship ascribe it to my -trembling hand. I am in a state of nervous fear. The strangest, -the most inexplicable, the weirdest event of my life, happened -yesterday. I was cleansing my hands in a bowl of water. Marville -was standing beside me. Suddenly he observed in a very strange -tone, 'Do your hands always redden the water like that?'</p> - -<p>"I glance downwards. The water in the basin—believe me or not, as -you will—was as crimson as blood! My God! it looked for all the -world like the water in which I washed my hands that night!</p> - -<p>"I could see by the mirror that my face had turned as white as -chalk. My agitation was too obvious to escape Marville's notice. -He smiled strangely, and turned away. What does it mean? Can it be -that he suspects me of—<i>that</i>? I have not yet recovered from the -shock, though it happened twenty-four hours ago, nor have I washed -my hands since then. My God! if it should happen again! I never -expected to feel regret for the death of Duchesne; nevertheless, -I do. It has reduced me to a devilishly nervous state of mind. I -suppose moralists would say that I am suffering retribution.</p> - -<p>"One of the sailors declares that he heard me talking in my sleep. -I must keep my cabin-door locked at night. If I should babble of -<i>that</i>, and wake to find Marville sitting by my bedside with an -awful smile and with glassy eyes fixed on me!"</p></blockquote> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span></p> - -<blockquote><p class="right">"The Yacht <i>Idris</i>, Trondheim,<br /> -10th September, 1876. </p> - -<p>"I verily believe that Marville is mad! He pretends that he -has deciphered the runic inscription. It relates to the buried -treasure of an old Norse Viking—which treasure, he avers, still -exists in the spot where it was hidden, a thousand years ago, the -site being some point on the eastern coast of England. A short run -across the North Sea will bring us to the place. He is bent on -finding it. Is it not clear that he is mad?</p> - -<p>"Hitherto <i>I</i> have taken charge of the yacht. Now <i>he</i> has -assumed the command, heedless of my mild protests. The crew do -not like this change of masters. His seamanship is of the wildest -character. He delights to sport with reefs and eddies, with winds -and storms. Thank heaven! we are going no farther north, or he -would take a diabolical pleasure in steering us all into the -Maëlstrom in order to demonstrate how cleverly he could get us -out again. This may be all very well for him, who is in love with -death, but for my part I prefer to live.</p> - -<p>"He has exchanged his former melancholy mood for one of reckless -mirth. He drinks: talks loudly: laughs: and promises to divide -his imaginary treasure among the crew. 'To obtain it,' he says, -'we shall have to penetrate to the chamber of the dead, for its -hiding-place is the tomb. But the ancient curse must be fulfilled; -and you,' he added, turning to me, 'shall be our Protesilaus.'</p> - -<p>"My classics have grown rusty. Who the devil was Protesilaus?"</p></blockquote> - -<blockquote><p class="right">"The Yacht <i>Idris</i>, Bergen,<br /> -7th October, 1876. </p> - -<p>"I have discovered who Protesilaus was—a Greek hero who -sacrificed his life to procure the safety of his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> friends. -Curious! What does Marville mean by calling me Protesilaus?</p> - -<p>"A strange occurrence took place last night. A subdued wailing -was heard among the shrouds. The thick fog prevented us from -discovering the origin of the sound. Fear fell on the crew, and -none of them would ascend the rigging to ascertain the cause. They -muttered that it was a ghost, and that it foreboded ill to all on -board. Marville laughed at them for a pack of fools! Of course it -was nothing but the moaning of some seabird, but, for all that, in -my then state of mind it was sufficiently disquieting.</p> - -<p>"I retired to rest, but only to lie awake all night with that -eerie sound playing around the vessel. The sailors have lost all -cheerfulness, and believe themselves to be living on a doomed -ship. 'What vessel ever did well, after she was re-named?' asked -one. I confess that I myself am affected by the general gloom, -but when I expressed to Marville my intention of remaining at -Bergen till his return from the treasure-search, he cried, 'No, -no! you, of all persons, must not leave us.' Why not? I thought of -Protesilaus again.</p> - -<p>"The more I consider his moody watchful manner towards me of late, -the more convinced I grow that he suspects me of the killing of -Duchesne. He has lured me on board this yacht with the object of -torturing my conscience; by perpetually dwelling upon the crime he -hopes to entrap me into a confession. So far he has failed, but my -position is a terrible one. I feel intuitively that he is maturing -some scheme of vengeance.</p> - -<p>"'Why do I not escape?' you may ask. Impossible! The sailors, I -believe, have orders to watch me. If I go ashore he accompanies -me, ostensibly from friendship, in reality to keep guard over me. -His dreadful smile fascinates me, and chains me to him. I seem -to have lost all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> freedom of will and action, and to have fallen -completely under the spell of some weird being from another world. -I feel that ere long he will draw the secret from me.</p> - -<p>"When I behold my reflection in the glass I cannot refrain -from the thought, 'Can that be the once brilliant and handsome -Rochefort?' I look ten years older—grey, haggard. I should be -quite safe in returning to France, for no one would recognize me now.</p> - -<p>"If there be a tribunal above to which one is responsible for the -deeds done on earth, I trust that the remorse I have suffered of -late will be taken into account."</p></blockquote> - -<blockquote><p class="right">"The Yacht <i>Idris</i>. In Ormsby Roads,<br /> -13th October, 1876, 7 p.m. </p> - -<p>"We are anchored off the English coast in front of a little town -called Ormsby-on-Sea. To the right of the town and about a mile -from the shore rise the towers of some old castle, embowered in -a woodland vale, and forming a pretty feature in the landscape. -Marville seems to take a great interest in this edifice; all this -morning he has been studying it through the telescope.</p> - -<p>"'Haven't seen the place for ten years,' he muttered, 'wonder if -<i>he</i> is still alive.'</p> - -<p>"I asked him the name of the place. A scowl was my only answer. -He hasn't improved in amiability since we left Bergen. In the -dictatorial spirit assumed by him of late he will not permit -any of us to land. He himself is going ashore for some purpose -which he refuses to disclose. He will not return to the yacht -till to-morrow. I am dispatching this letter to the post by -the sailor who is to row Marville ashore—a sailor whom I can -trust.—Farewell!"</p></blockquote> - -<p>"The last letter we ever received from him," murmured Lorelie, laying -down the missive.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span></p> - -<p>The tone of the final letters conveyed an impression terrible in its -suggestiveness to her mind now that by means of her hypnotic experiment -she had become aware of the tragedy that had taken place within the -interior of Ormfell.</p> - -<p>"The <i>Idris</i> went down on the evening of October 13th," she murmured, -"and late that same night Olave Ravengar returned to Ravenhall after an -absence of ten years. Is this a coincidence, or is the present earl the -same person as Eric Marville? Did my father go down with the yacht, or -did he escape the sea only to fall within the interior of Ormfell by -the hand of the man whom he had wronged?"</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XVI</span> <span class="smaller">LORELIE AT RAVENHALL</span></h2> - -<p>Lord Walden was reading a newspaper one afternoon in the quietude -of his own room at Ravenhall, when the step of some person entering -the chamber unannounced caused him to look up, and he found Lorelie -standing before him.</p> - -<p>"Hul-lo!" he muttered, throwing down the newspaper, and startled beyond -measure at seeing his wife so near his father's presence. "What brings -<i>you</i> here?"</p> - -<p>"To claim my rights," she answered quietly. "Why should the wife occupy -a modest villa while the husband lives in castled state?"</p> - -<p>She took off her toque and mantle, threw them upon the table, and, with -the air of one who had come to stay, sat down in an armchair opposite -him.</p> - -<p>For some moments Ivar frowned darkly at his fair young wife, and was -obviously dismayed by her determination.</p> - -<p>When the earl, a few weeks previously, had urged upon him the necessity -for marrying Beatrice, Ivar had lacked the courage to confess that he -had a wife already, knowing that the statement would be certain to -evoke his father's anger, and Ivar stood in considerable awe of his -father.</p> - -<p>Accordingly, he had made a pretence of submission, and had gone so far -as to delude the earl with the fiction that he was paying successful -court to Beatrice. This contemptible subterfuge was not one that could -be long continued in any circumstances; but Lorelie's sudden<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> resolve -for recognition threatened to bring matters to a climax that very day.</p> - -<p>"You have come here to create a vulgar scene before all the servants, I -see," scowled Ivar.</p> - -<p>"I have come here to redeem my name," she answered indignantly. "Do you -know that at the flower-show yesterday ladies turned aside to avoid me, -and that I caught the half-whispered words, 'Lord Walden's mistress'? -Do you wish me to return to The Cedars to live there under such a name? -I will keep silent no longer. To day all Ormsby shall know that I am -Viscountess Walden."</p> - -<p>Vainly did Ivar try to temporize, to persuade, to cajole, to threaten. -Lorelie continued inflexible.</p> - -<p>"Take me to your father," she said. "My maiden name will compel him to -acknowledge me."</p> - -<p>"What is there in the name of Rivière to charm him?" asked Ivar, in -surprise.</p> - -<p>"Nothing, but much in the name of Rochefort," she answered, rising to -her feet. "Will you go with me, or shall I go alone to inform him that -I have married a craven who lacks the spirit and courage to tell the -truth?"</p> - -<p>Ivar saw the necessity of yielding. Looking with a very ill grace at -his wife he touched a hand-bell on the table.</p> - -<p>"Where is the earl?" he asked of the footman, who appeared in answer to -the summons.</p> - -<p>"His lordship is taking the air on the western terrace," was the reply.</p> - -<p>The viscount rose and moved off in the direction of the said terrace -accompanied by his wife, while the footman stared curiously after them.</p> - -<p>Lorelie had come to Ravenhall for the purpose of verifying, if -possible, the strange suspicion she had of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> late begun to entertain -that the present Earl of Ormsby was none other than Eric Marville. If -this surmise were correct, it behoved her to make known to him the -truth concerning the murder of Duchesne. But of what avail was it to -clear the character of Eric Marville from the guilt of the long-past -crime, if her other suspicion should prove true that he was the slayer -of her father? She was precluded from denouncing him for this latter -deed by reason of her position as his daughter-in-law, and by the -thought that Captain Rochefort, in falling by the hand of the man whom -he had wronged, had met with a justly merited doom.</p> - -<p>If the earl were really Eric Marville, it followed that Idris, as his -elder son, was being unjustly deprived of his rights by the younger -half-brother Ivar.</p> - -<p>Ignorant of the causes that had contributed to render Idris an object -of aversion to the earl, Lorelie, nevertheless, determined to compel -the earl to acknowledge him. Thus much justice should at least be done. -And in coming to this resolve Lorelie tried to persuade herself that -she was actuated simply by the desire for justice, whereas her heart -more truly told her that secret love for Idris was her controlling -motive.</p> - -<p>On reaching the western terrace they found the earl standing at one end -of it with his back towards them. He had just come from the library -after a long spell of study, and was now refreshing his tired eyes -by a contemplation of the lawns and the woods that surrounded his -castellated mansion.</p> - -<p>On hearing footsteps he turned, and his cold grey eyes lighted upon -Lorelie: not, however, for the first time, since her pew in St. -Oswald's Church faced his own; but beyond the fact that she was called -Mademoiselle Rivière he knew nothing whatever respecting her, and, it -may be added, had no desire to know more.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span></p> - -<p>He supposed that Ivar had been showing her over his historic mansion, -portions of which were open to the public on certain days. But this -western terrace was private ground, reserved for the family. What did -Ivar mean by bringing this young lady to him, who had no desire for -an introduction? With something like a frown upon his face he awaited -their approach.</p> - -<p>Could this cold and dignified peer of the realm, thought Lorelie, be -the man who, twenty-three years before, had escaped from a felon's cell -in Brittany? Was this really the father of Idris? It seemed too strange -to be true. Was his the face that Beatrice in her hypnotic trance had -seen peering into the Viking's tomb? A chilling sensation seized her as -Ivar escorted her towards the presence of the man whom she believed to -be her father's murderer.</p> - -<p>Lord Ormsby was the first to speak.</p> - -<p>"Mademoiselle Rivière, I believe," he said, bowing stiffly.</p> - -<p>"Not so, my lord."</p> - -<p>"No?" queried the earl.</p> - -<p>"No!" she replied with a smile that annoyed him. As if it mattered to -him who she was!</p> - -<p>"Hum, some mistake. What name, then, may I ask——?"</p> - -<p>"Viscountess Walden, my lord," she replied, with an air as stately as -his own.</p> - -<p>For a few moments the earl's surprise was too great for words. He sank -upon a stone seat, and stared from one to the other.</p> - -<p>"You hear what this woman says," he remarked in a harsh voice, turning -to his son. "Is it true?"</p> - -<p>"We are married—yes," returned Ivar, sullenly.</p> - -<p>"You have given me to understand," continued the earl, "that you were -paying your addresses to Beatrice."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Father, listen to me," muttered Ivar. "I was already married at the -time when you pressed Beatrice's name upon me, and seeing how earnestly -you were set upon the match I—I lacked the courage to—to state the -truth."</p> - -<p>Lorelie heard her husband's words with secret contempt. The craven was -almost apologizing for marrying her! With an effort she controlled her -feelings, and remained silent.</p> - -<p>Casting a contemptuous glance at his son the earl turned, and with a -coldly critical eye surveyed his new daughter-in-law. Yes, she was -undeniably beautiful, with an exquisite taste in dress; and bore -herself with the air and dignity of a princess; clearly an ornament to -Ravenhall, provided only that her antecedents were above the criticism -of Society.</p> - -<p>"And who and whence is the lady that now bears Viscount Walden's name?" -he asked.</p> - -<p>"My name is Lorelie, <i>née</i> Rochefort."</p> - -<p>"<i>Rochefort?</i>" repeated the earl, with a sharp intonation on the word.</p> - -<p>"I am the daughter of Captain Noel Rochefort, of Nantes."</p> - -<p>The earl's sudden start did not escape her attentive eyes. It seemed to -give confirmation to her suspicion.</p> - -<p>"Your lordship has perhaps heard of him? His is a notable name."</p> - -<p>"No. Yes. That is to say," replied the earl in some confusion, "unless -my memory is at fault, some one of that name figured prominently in the -French newspapers about twenty-three years ago. Did your father aid in -the escape of a certain prisoner from Valàgenêt?"</p> - -<p>"Your lordship has an excellent memory."</p> - -<p>"I was in Brittany at the time of the escape, and the story was in -everybody's mouth. The name of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> prisoner was—was," pursued the -earl, with the air of one striving to recall a forgotten fact, "was -Eric Marville, I think."</p> - -<p>"I must again commend your lordship's memory."</p> - -<p>"Of what crime was this Marville found guilty?"</p> - -<p>"He was accused of murder."</p> - -<p>"Murder. Ay! so it was. I remember now," replied the earl with a -thoughtful air.</p> - -<p>Few could have surmised from his manner that in recalling the name of -Eric Marville he was, in reality, speaking of himself, and Lorelie -found herself in a state of doubt again.</p> - -<p>"Your father," continued the earl, "was a great friend of this -Marville, otherwise he would not have planned and carried out this -rescue-plot?"</p> - -<p>"We may presume that he was."</p> - -<p>The earl's conduct would certainly have seemed singular to an ordinary -by-stander. The lady before him was waiting for recognition as his -daughter-in-law, but neglecting that as a matter of no consequence, he -was interesting himself in events that had happened more than twenty -years before. Lorelie found her suspicion returning.</p> - -<p>"Do you know what ultimately became of this Marville—I mean of your -father, or rather of both of them?"</p> - -<p>"They went yachting together in '76, and their vessel went down in -Ormsby Race."</p> - -<p>"So near our own doors? Strange! Then this Marville was drowned?"</p> - -<p>"I have reason to believe that he was not."</p> - -<p>"Ay! and what is your reason?"</p> - -<p>"My lord, do <i>you</i> ask that?" she answered with significant intonation.</p> - -<p>"I don't understand you."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span></p> - -<p>But he did not press for her meaning; Lorelie marked that. And there -was an interval of silence ere he resumed his catechism.</p> - -<p>"Your father, Captain Rochefort—was <i>he</i> drowned?"</p> - -<p>"I have reasons—very strong reasons—for believing that he escaped the -fury of the sea, only to be murdered."</p> - -<p>While speaking she kept her gaze fixed upon the earl's face to mark -the effect of her words. Unless she was mistaken there was in his eyes -something very like the light of fear.</p> - -<p>"Murdered?" he said. "What leads you to this strange belief?"</p> - -<p>"With your lordship's permission I will reserve my reasons for another -time.—You have not yet said," she added quietly, "whether you -acknowledge me."</p> - -<p>"You are my son's wife, and, therefore, my daughter. Welcome to -Ravenhall!"</p> - -<p>Rising from his seat he approached and kissed her. And at this seal of -recognition Ivar heaved a sigh of relief. The trying ordeal was over, -and it had not ended, as he had fancied that it might, in his enforced -retirement from Ravenhall.</p> - -<p>When the earl touched Lorelie's cheek with his lips he found her skin -as cold as marble. She had submitted to the act, not knowing how to -repulse it; but—kissed by her father's murderer! To receive such a -kiss seemed to her mind like a condonation of the crime—a purchase of -her position at the price of her father's blood.</p> - -<p>She grew faint. Why was she placing herself in a position where day -by day she would encounter the presence of this terrible earl? for to -her he was terrible. A great longing came upon her to go back to The -Cedars; but the thought of Idris calmed her. For his sake she would -stay. Her belief that he was the rightful heir of Ravenhall was, after -all, a matter of conjecture, not of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> knowledge: she must have proofs -before telling him of her opinion: and, in her judgment, such proofs -would be found at Ravenhall.</p> - -<p>Hating herself for the hypocrisy she masked her feelings with a smile -and endeavoured to appear gratified with her new position.</p> - -<p>Learning that Lorelie had not yet seen the interior of Ravenhall the -earl, as if wishful to conciliate her, undertook to conduct her over -the mansion.</p> - -<p>He escorted his new daughter-in-law through the finer parts of the -castle, pointing out the various treasures contained within its walls: -but though he talked much during this tour of inspection Lorelie was -conscious all the time of being furtively scanned by him, as if he were -trying to fathom her character and aims: and the belief was borne in -upon her mind that she was the object of his suspicion and fear.</p> - -<p>He bade her select as her own whatever apartments might take her fancy, -and introduced her to the housekeeper, telling the latter that, as -regarded the domestic arrangements of Ravenhall, she must now receive -her orders from the new viscountess. Then, having rendered these -honours, the earl went back to his library with the remark that they -would meet again at dinner.</p> - -<p>"Egad, we're in luck's way!" exclaimed the delighted Ivar. "Who'd have -thought the old boy would prove so gracious? But why have you always -kept it a secret from me that you are Captain Rochefort's daughter?" He -gave Lorelie no time to reply, for, suddenly struck by a new thought, -he continued, "O, by the way, just a hint, lest you should unwittingly -betray a secret of mine. Don't let the governor ever know that I have -given you a golden vase."</p> - -<p>"Very well, Ivar. But may I ask your reason for this caution?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span></p> - -<p>The viscount tugged the ends of his light moustache with a -shamefacedness very unusual in him.</p> - -<p>"Hum! ah! well! I suppose I had better speak the truth. The fact is -I've had to forestall my future heritage by appropriating some pieces -of the family plate."</p> - -<p>"Appropriating! That is a good word, Ivar."</p> - -<p>"Call it what you like. It was necessitated by the expense of keeping a -wife. Your tastes are costly. Pictures, works of art, rare furniture, -rich dresses are the breath of life to you. Deny it if you can. I -was obliged to resort to some expedient in order to satisfy your -extravagance. That vase was one of my—er—appropriations. I gave it to -you to convert into cash, but you seem to prefer keeping it."</p> - -<p>"And so the money you have given me during the past few months has come -from the sale of this plate?"</p> - -<p>Ivar nodded assent.</p> - -<p>"Was this plate contained in the jewel-room through which the earl has -just taken us?"</p> - -<p>"O, dear no! The store I refer to is far too valuable and tempting -to be exposed to the eyes of even the oldest and most trusted of -our family servants—at least, that's the governor's opinion. He is -somewhat eccentric, you know. So he keeps this treasure to himself in a -secret place."</p> - -<p>Lorelie did not ask Ivar to name this secret place: she had her own -opinion as to the locality, and would not have believed Ivar if he had -declared it to be elsewhere.</p> - -<p>"Your father inspects these treasures occasionally, I presume?"</p> - -<p>"Of course—with the joy of an old miser."</p> - -<p>"And he keeps a catalogue of them?"</p> - -<p>"You bet he does!"</p> - -<p>"Then how have you contrived to keep your appropriations undiscovered?"</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span></p> - -<p>A look of low conceit and cunning overspread the face of the viscount.</p> - -<p>"Ah! that's my secret. The governor thinks he still possesses the -missing plate. It's there before his eyes, and yet it isn't there. He -sees it, and yet he doesn't see it. He's an artful fellow, the old -boy! But for once he's been outwitted. You don't understand. Some day -I'll explain my meaning. Meantime, remember, mum's the word on this -business."</p> - -<p>And here Ivar went off to inspect a new hunter that had just arrived, -while Lorelie turned away with a look of unspeakable horror in her eyes.</p> - -<p>"So the Viking's treasure found its way to Ravenhall," she murmured. -"And by whose hand it is clear. The price of my father's blood! My God! -to think that I have been living on money derived from such a source!"</p> - -<p>That same evening at sunset Lorelie sat alone on the grand terrace -overlooking the undulating landscape that surrounded Ravenhall. Behind -her rose the ivied mansion with its fine halls and treasures of art. -Roses, glowing in sculptured vases along the terrace, filled the air -with their sweetness. Marble fountains flashed aloft their silvery -spray. Below, in front of her, green lawns and woodlands stretched away -to the margin of a shimmering lake—all bathed in the dusky golden glow -of sunset.</p> - -<p>This day should have been one of the proudest of her life. She had -received recognition from the earl, and was now an acknowledged wife, a -peeress, and the destined queen of the county-side.</p> - -<p>While living at The Cedars she had been slighted by some of the society -of Ormsby, and had been cruelly traduced by others; how great, then, -would be the mortification of her enemies to learn that the person whom -they had contemned held the proud rank of Viscountess<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> Walden! They -would be but too willing now to efface the past and do her homage; -for, to be on visiting terms at Ravenhall was the ambition of all the -<i>élite</i> of Ormsby. What a triumph for her! Youth and beauty, rank and -wealth—all were hers!</p> - -<p>That was one side of the medal; how different the reverse!</p> - -<p>Her father was a murderer; her father-in-law was a murderer; her -husband was, in his own language, an "appropriator," or, in other -words, a thief: and she herself was but a spy at Ravenhall, seeking for -proofs to deprive him of his prospective wealth and title! Even now he -manifested indifference to her: what would be his feelings if, through -her instrumentality, Idris Breakspear should succeed to the coronet of -the Ravengars?</p> - -<p>Whether she spoke out, or whether she remained mute, a melancholy -future lay before her. On the one hand splendour purchased at the price -of injustice to Idris: on the other the lifelong hatred of her husband -for preferring the interests of Idris to his own.</p> - -<p>The voice of Ivar jarred upon her meditations. He was lounging along -the terrace smoking the inevitable cigarette.</p> - -<p>"My lady doesn't seem very happy now that she dwells 'in marble halls, -with vassals and serfs by her side.' Look around you," he continued, -with a sweep of his arm that took in the whole landscape. "As far as -you can see, north, east, south, and west, all is ours. Isn't the -prospect fair enough for you?"</p> - -<p>"As fair as the Dead Sea fruit—all ashes to the taste."</p> - -<p>She lifted her head, and he saw that her face was pale, that her eyes -were suffused with tears, that her expression was one of unutterable -melancholy.</p> - -<p>"Why the devil did you come here, if you don't like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> it? Upon my word -you are hard to please! Is this your gratitude to the pater for his -gracious reception of you!"</p> - -<p>"To be called 'Viscountess Walden,' and 'Your ladyship,'" she murmured -to herself, "knowing all the time that I am listening to a lie!"</p> - -<p>Ivar started, but made no reply. He lounged off to the end of the -terrace, where he stood watching his wife with a dark expression on his -face.</p> - -<p>"Got a fit of the blues on!" he muttered. "Thinking of Breakspear, and -how hard it is he should be kept from his own, and so forth. By God! -supposing she lets her craze for that fellow carry her to the extreme -of declaring the truth! She loves him, and a woman in love will commit -any folly. She's not to be trusted."</p> - -<p>While he was occupied with these uneasy reflections a footman appeared, -carrying on a silver salver a letter addressed to the viscount.</p> - -<p>Ivar gave a start when he perceived the handwriting on the envelope, -and ere opening it cast a glance at the distant Lorelie.</p> - -<p>The note was a sweet-scented one, signed "Lilias Winter," and contained -a request for a subscription to a local charity, at least so the -simple-minded would have read it, but to Ivar it conveyed a very -different meaning. Interpreted by a prearranged code the note signified -that on the part of the sender circumstances were favourable that night -for receiving a visit from the viscount. For Ivar, with a perversity of -taste, not uncommon in the immoral, found more pleasure in carrying on -an intrigue with a widow of forty than in cultivating the society of -his fair young wife.</p> - -<p>A few days previously, when ignorant of the existence of Idris, the -viscount would have laughed in Lorelie's face had she reproached him -with this amour.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span></p> - -<p>Now he suddenly became conscious that this intrigue was no laughing -matter.</p> - -<p>His succession to the title and estates depended on his wife's good -will. Any act on his part tending to provoke her might end in his -ruin. When the handsome widow, who had entertained hopes herself of -one day becoming Viscountess Walden, should learn of Ivar's marriage, -disappointment and jealousy might prompt her to reveal this amour -to Lorelie. And then——? Ill usage from her husband Lorelie might -tolerate, but infidelity, never! Goaded by such an outrage she would -fling his interests to the winds, and make it known that Idris was the -rightful heir of Ravenhall.</p> - -<p>"No help for it," muttered Ivar. "I must tell the governor at once, and -tell him all without disguise; that Idris Marville is not only alive, -but dwelling here to-day at Ormsby; that Lorelie suspects who he is, -and that Lilias will have to be bribed into silence, otherwise she will -create a scandal of which Lorelie will avail herself to our confusion -and ruin. Breakspear at present is ignorant of his lineage; something -must be done to prevent him from ever learning it—<i>but what?</i>"</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * *</p> - -<p>The lights in the library at Ravenhall burned till a late hour that -night, or rather they were continued till far into the morning.</p> - -<p>The sleep of the new viscountess in her distant bedchamber was fitful -and troubled, but there would have been no sleep at all for her could -she have known the character of the conversation taking place in the -library between the Ravengars, father and son.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XVII</span> <span class="smaller">THE SECRET OF THE FUNERAL CRYPT</span></h2> - -<p>On the day following her recognition at Ravenhall Lorelie sat at -luncheon with the earl and the viscount. The servants had retired, -leaving them free to indulge in private conversation.</p> - -<p>"To my fair daughter-in-law," said the earl, touching his glass with -his lips and bowing to Lorelie, who returned the greeting but coldly. -The space of twenty-four hours had not reconciled her any the more to -his presence.</p> - -<p>"Do you know that old Lanfranc is dead?" remarked Ivar, addressing his -father.</p> - -<p>"No. Where did you learn that?"</p> - -<p>"Saw it just now in the obituary column of the <i>Times</i>."</p> - -<p>"May one ask who Lanfranc is?" said Lorelie.</p> - -<p>"Sir George Lanfranc," replied the earl, "is——"</p> - -<p>"Was," corrected Ivar.</p> - -<p>"Our family solicitor," continued the earl, with a frown—he hated to -be corrected—"and one of the privileged four admitted to the knowledge -of our secret funeral vault."</p> - -<p>"The other three being——?" queried Lorelie.</p> - -<p>"Ivar and I, as a matter of course: and the Rector of Ormsby."</p> - -<p>"I think I could name a fifth," murmured Lorelie to herself.</p> - -<p>For, on the day prior to her coming to Ravenhall she had chanced to -meet with Godfrey, and, moved by a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> sudden impulse, he had told her -how he had followed Ivar to the crypt and what had happened there, not -omitting Lord Walden's utterance that it was done on Lorelie's account. -The story was a complete revelation to her, and, while thanking Godfrey -for his communication, she determined to discover the meaning of the -strange affair with which Ivar had associated her name. A favourable -opportunity seemed now to present itself, and she resolved to essay a -bold stroke.</p> - -<p>"We shall have to choose some one to supply Lanfranc's place," said the -earl, turning to his son.</p> - -<p>"Permit me to offer myself," suggested Lorelie.</p> - -<p>Lord Ormsby raised his eyebrows in manifest surprise.</p> - -<p>"Ladies have never been admitted to that vault," he replied. "In that -respect it resembles the Baptist's Chapel in the Genoese Cathedral."</p> - -<p>"But that chapel <i>is</i> open to ladies on one day in the year," replied -Lorelie. "Therefore, your parallel will not hold."</p> - -<p>"Are you really serious in making this suggestion?" asked the earl.</p> - -<p>"Perfectly."</p> - -<p>"What is your reason?"</p> - -<p>Lorelie shrugged her shoulders.</p> - -<p>"You don't require reason from a woman," she replied. "It would be hard -for me to give my reason. Curiosity, mainly: the desire of seeing what -no other woman has seen, or ever will see."</p> - -<p>"The initiated have to swear an oath to keep the secret," said Ivar.</p> - -<p>"That gives quite a romantic charm to the adventure," Lorelie replied.</p> - -<p>The earl sat silent for a moment as if weighing the matter, and then -cast at his son a look which seemed to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> convey a silent suggestion, a -suggestion that appeared to meet with tacit acceptance from the other.</p> - -<p>"There is really no reason why we should not admit you to the vault," -he remarked. "Better one of the family than an outsider. And you are -one of us now," he added with a sigh, as though the fact were much to -be regretted. "You shall be one of the privileged four, if you desire -it. When would you like to pay your first visit?"</p> - -<p>"Why not now?" she asked impulsively, rising from her seat as she spoke.</p> - -<p>"Humph!" replied the earl, thoughtfully. "Suppose we say to-night. The -late hour will enable us the better to escape the prying eyes of the -servants. You consent? Good! Then we will meet in this dining-hall a -little before twelve to-night. But—not a whisper of this to any one. -Let the matter be kept secret."</p> - -<p>Lorelie rose and sought the retirement of her own room, not without -wonder that the earl should accept her strange proposal almost as soon -as he heard it. Then, as she recalled the curious look he had cast at -Ivar, together with his injunction to observe secrecy respecting the -intended visit, there swept over her a sudden wave of cold feeling -induced by a thought so dreadful that she could scarcely bring herself -to entertain it. But the idea would persist in stamping itself in -letters of fire upon her mind.</p> - -<p>"I know he hates me!" she gasped. "I saw that in his eyes when he first -heard my name. I know he hates me, but—my God! to such an extent as -<i>that</i>! Is he afraid that the daughter will seek to avenge her father? -And will he get Ivar to consent?"</p> - -<p>While she was occupied with these terrible misgivings her husband came -slouching in. He seated himself on a chair and regarded her for a -moment with a strange expression that set her trembling.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span></p> - -<p>"So you've quite made up your mind to visit the vault?"</p> - -<p>She assented with a nod, not daring to trust herself to speak. Her -heart was beating like a steam-hammer; faint murmurs were ringing in -her ears; she seemed to see Ivar as through a mist.</p> - -<p>"Bah! you lack the courage. You will be crying off from the venture -before the night comes."</p> - -<p>His sneer roused her spirit, and she spoke in a low tone, striving to -control the tremors of her voice.</p> - -<p>"I will not cry off: no," she added, emphasizing her words, as if to -fix his attention, "not if it should end in my death."</p> - -<p>Ivar started and glanced suspiciously at her.</p> - -<p>Suddenly Lorelie rose, and walking to an oak-press produced a small -piece of faded black velvet fringed on one edge with silver lace. -Sitting down with needle and thread she proceeded with deft fingers to -manipulate this velvet into a sort of ornamental bow, without cutting -the fabric or in any way diminishing its original size.</p> - -<p>Her husband moodily watched her, wondering why she should form a -dress-ornament from such faded stuff and why she should select this -particular juncture for making it.</p> - -<p>"What's that thing you are making?" he asked in a sullen voice.</p> - -<p>"Merely a bow," she answered, extending the half-finished article -towards him. "Of what do you suppose this velvet once formed part?"</p> - -<p>"It might have been cut from a pall by the look of it."</p> - -<p>"I commend your discernment. You are not far wrong."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps you will enlighten me," he asked, scowling, as he noticed her -air of satisfaction at his perplexity.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span></p> - -<p>"It is not the first time you have seen this velvet and its parent -fabric," said Lorelie.</p> - -<p>Approaching a mirror she held the bow against the neck-band of her -dress.</p> - -<p>"I shall wear this bow to-night. True, it does not look very pretty, -yet it may serve as a talisman, and——"</p> - -<p>But on looking up she found that Ivar was gone. The velvet dropped to -the carpet, and she clasped her hands.</p> - -<p>"They mean it," she murmured. "I can read it in Ivar's guilty -manner—half-resolve, half-fear: letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I -would.' My God! But I will go through with it. I will put their base -courage to the test."</p> - -<p>Her first fears had vanished, leaving her hard and firm as steel. -The spirit that loves danger for its own sake, the spirit derived -from her Corsican ancestors, began to reawake in the breast of their -nineteenth-century descendant.</p> - -<p>At six in the evening Lorelie, who had spent the afternoon in arranging -her plan of action, stole quietly to her bedroom, having told the -butler she would not come down to dinner.</p> - -<p>"I must sleep," she murmured, "that my faculties may be fresh and -unimpaired for to-night's work."</p> - -<p>Her first care was to lock and bolt the door that opened upon the -corridor, and next that communicating with Ivar's bedroom. She paid -considerable attention to these doors, as well as to the fastenings of -the windows. A traveller putting up for the night at some lonely and -suspicious hostelry could not have shown more caution. Thus secured -from intrusion she laid herself down, dressed as she was, upon the bed. -But fully two hours elapsed ere she succeeded in falling asleep.</p> - -<p>When she awoke she found herself shivering with cold and in total -darkness. For a few moments she lay<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> dreamily conscious that some -ordeal awaited her, but unable at first to recall what it was. Then -memory revived. The visit to the vault! Yes! that was it; and the -thought made her pulses quicken.</p> - -<p>She rose, procured a light, and found that it was close upon midnight.</p> - -<p>"So late! They will begin to think that I am not coming."</p> - -<p>Fastening the velvet bow to the neck-band of her dress she unlocked the -chamber-door and walked out into the corridor. A deep silence reigned -throughout the mansion, a silence that to her imagination had something -awesome in it. It seemed like the prelude to a tragedy. With a firm -step she descended the staircase and made her way to the dining-hall, -where a murmur of voices told her that the earl and Ivar were awaiting -her.</p> - -<p>Their conversation ceased upon her entrance, and both looked up, Ivar -seeming somewhat perturbed in spirit, the earl smiling and evidently -pleased that she had come.</p> - -<p>"We were just discussing the probability of your appearing," said he. -"Ivar was confident that you would cry off from the business. And, -certainly, a coffin-vault is not a very cheerful place."</p> - -<p>"It is not the dead one has to fear," replied Lorelie, "but the living."</p> - -<p>"Your wife has more courage than you gave her credit for, Ivar," -remarked the earl approvingly. "If you will carry the lamp I will give -her my arm."</p> - -<p>"Thank you," replied Lorelie, declining the proffered arm, "but I can -walk without aid."</p> - -<p>They set forward from the dining-hall, the earl going first, Ivar -a model of ill-grace walking beside Lorelie. He did not speak, but -glanced curiously at her from time to time.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span></p> - -<p>The expedition was so strange, so unlike anything she had ever known -before, that Lorelie began to wonder whether the whole scene was -not a dream. It was difficult to believe that the earl, so smiling -and courteous, could really entertain the black design of which she -suspected him.</p> - -<p>At the end of the Picture Gallery they reached that little lumber-room -which Godfrey Rothwell had so long hesitated to enter on that memorable -night when tracking Ivar to the vault. Making his way to the hearth the -earl stood in the wide space beneath the mantel, and lifting his hand -within the chimney he touched what Lorelie judged was a hidden spring, -for his action was immediately followed by a faint creaking of pulleys -and ropes, and then the perpendicular slab forming one side of the -fireplace began slowly to descend, revealing behind it an empty space.</p> - -<p>"The secret way to our crypt," remarked the earl.</p> - -<p>He passed through the entrance. Ivar, who had not spoken one word since -leaving the dining-hall, followed. Lorelie went last.</p> - -<p>She looked about her. The light carried by Ivar faintly illumined the -place. She was standing in a narrow passage, paved, walled, and roofed, -with stone. Its length could not be ascertained by the eye, for it -stretched away indefinitely in the gloom.</p> - -<p>The earl began to manipulate the machinery, and the stone slab slowly -ascended till its lower end rested upon the hearth again. Lorelie, -attentive to his action, grasped with quick eye the principle of the -mechanism. Such knowledge would be useful in the event of her having to -return alone.</p> - -<p>All communication with the outer world was now cut off. She was -completely at the mercy of the two men, and though this was only what -she had foreseen, yet none<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> the less the sudden realization of the fact -caused a certain chilling of her high courage.</p> - -<p>The order of their march was now changed: they walked abreast: Lorelie -in the centre, the earl on her right, Ivar, still silent, on her left.</p> - -<p>Though apparently staring about with interest and curiosity Lorelie in -reality never took her eyes from the earl. It might have been simply -the effect of the flickering light, but in her opinion his face had -an exultant and sinister expression. She became more than ever on her -guard, and any sudden movement on his part caused her right hand to -seek her dress pocket in which a loaded revolver lay concealed.</p> - -<p>A steep descent of stone steps now yawned in front of them. With her -left hand Lorelie drew her dainty skirts around her, and glanced in -disgust at the black slimy ooze and the patches of fungous growth.</p> - -<p>"These stairs look slippery," she murmured.</p> - -<p>"A former lord of Ormsby broke his neck down these very steps," -remarked the earl.</p> - -<p>"I have no wish to imitate his feat," said Lorelie, drawing back a -little. "Do you go first. If I slip I shall be but a light weight, -whereas if you should fall upon me," she added, with a shrug of her -shoulders, "there is no knowing what might happen."</p> - -<p>The earl gave her a suspicious look as if detecting a hidden meaning -in her words: then, compliant with her wish, he led the way down the -steps. Lorelie came last, feeling more at ease in being at the rear.</p> - -<p>The stairs terminated in the flagged flooring of another long passage, -at the end of which was the crypt.</p> - -<p>As Lorelie entered she could not repress a shiver, the atmosphere of -the place striking her senses with a damp chilling effect.</p> - -<p>Ivar, by aid of the light he had carried, proceeded to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> kindle the lamp -pendent from the roof, and every object in the chamber became clearly -visible.</p> - -<p>At a glance Lorelie took in the whole scene—the octagonal crypt, the -black velvet curtains draping the alcoves, the massive oak table, -and the four antique carved chairs: everything just as Godfrey had -described it.</p> - -<p>As her eye fell upon the silver lace edging the lower end of a curtain -adjacent to the door, her face expressed satisfaction, a satisfaction -that became instantly lost in a very different feeling: for there, -on the floor by one of the alcoves, was a chest of cypress wood, an -object she readily identified as the reliquary that had figured so -conspicuously in Godfrey's narration. The lid stood erect and she -noticed that the contents consisted of a whitish powder.</p> - -<p>"<i>Quicklime!</i>" she murmured with a cold thrill.</p> - -<p>Becoming doubly vigilant she sat down in one of the chairs and prepared -herself for emergencies.</p> - -<p>On the table stood a decanter partly filled with wine, and beside it -some glasses. Observant of everything Lorelie saw that though the -smooth surface of the table was overlaid with a coating of dust, the -display of glass exhibited not a trace of it; evidently the wine was of -recent introduction—perhaps placed there specially for her use.</p> - -<p>"What! you have wine here? Pour me out a glass, Ivar."</p> - -<p>Speaking in the tone of a woman who suspects nothing she reclined in -her seat in a graceful attitude, extending a glass towards Ivar, and -watching him keenly from beneath the lashes of her half-closed eyes. -Her husband, his face as white as a ghost's, filled her glass, and -setting down the decanter, breathed hard. The earl looked on with -seeming indifference.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span></p> - -<p>With steady motion Lorelie lifted the glass, taking a longer time over -the action than was necessary, as if even the foretaste of drinking -were a pleasure not to be curtailed. Ivar was watching her with an -expression the like of which she had never before seen on his face.</p> - -<p>Her lips touched the edge of the glass, and there rested a moment: and -then, without having tasted the wine, she raised the glass and held -it between her half-closed eyes and the lamp above, an action that -displayed to the full the beauty of her rounded arm and bust.</p> - -<p>"How bright and clear it is!" she murmured, in a softly modulated -voice. "By the way," she added, suddenly opening her eyes wide, "what -wine do you call this?"</p> - -<p>"A choice vintage. Malvazia, one of the rarest of the Madeiras," -replied the earl.</p> - -<p>Lorelie lowered the glass quickly, in real or feigned disappointment.</p> - -<p>"<i>O-oh!</i>" she murmured, pouting. "A pity—that! I cannot bear Malvazia: -it always gives me the headache. I must refrain from drinking.—And -yet," she added, inhaling the fragrance, "the bouquet is tempting."</p> - -<p>She toyed a moment or two with the glass, as if about to drink, but -finally set it down upon the table, glancing at the two men with a -silvery laugh. Her radiant air contrasted strangely with the sombre -spirit which seemed to enwrap both of them.</p> - -<p>"This is a very pretty chamber," she said, poising her head upon her -hands, and affecting to survey the crypt with interest. "Nothing very -terrible about it, after all. I might have spared myself the letter to -Dr. Rothwell."</p> - -<p>"What is that?" said the earl, with a quick nervous start.</p> - -<p>"<i>Peccavi!</i> I have done very wrong, I admit," said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> Lorelie, with a -sweet smile. "I have ventured to disobey your command that I should -tell nobody of this, our midnight adventure: for, as one never knows -what may happen when visiting the haunts of the dead, I could not -refrain from communicating with Dr. Rothwell on the matter. He is aware -of this visit of ours to the crypt. Commend my wisdom, my lord, in thus -taking precautions to secure our safe return."</p> - -<p>Never did human countenance change so quickly as did that of the earl -at these words. He glanced at Ivar. Dismay was reflected in the eyes of -each.</p> - -<p>"Here is the note I received from him this afternoon," continued -Lorelie imperturbably, drawing forth the communication and tossing it -carelessly upon the table. "You observe his words. 'Dear Lady Walden, I -give you my promise that if I do not meet you at the porch of Ravenhall -to-morrow morning at eight, I will come and seek you in the vault."</p> - -<p>"He would have some trouble in finding it," sneered the earl.</p> - -<p>"Not at all. Dr. Rothwell knows his way to this crypt as well as you or -Ivar. He made a secret visit here on April the tenth of this year, the -night on which Ivar returned home from the continent."</p> - -<p>"Godfrey <i>was</i> at Ravenhall that night," muttered the viscount uneasily.</p> - -<p>"He was here—in this vault, I repeat, at three in the morning. And -the scene he witnessed was past belief. It would do you good, Ivar, to -listen to his story. It would really interest you; you, perhaps, more -than any other person."</p> - -<p>It is no exaggeration to say that at these words Ivar became green -with fear. He turned his head from the earl in order to conceal his -agitation. The secret which he had believed to be locked within his own -breast was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> known to others—was being hinted at in the presence of his -father, the very person from whom he most desired to conceal it. How -much did Lorelie know? What would she be saying next? Words, perhaps, -that would bring him to ruin.</p> - -<p>"Ivar, I see, is persuaded of the truth of my statement. You are more -sceptical, my lord, but you shall be convinced."</p> - -<p>She detached the velvet bow from her neckband and flung it lightly -beside Godfrey's note.</p> - -<p>"Cut the threads of that; unfold the velvet, and you will find that -its shape corresponds exactly with the little rent at the foot of that -curtain. It was Dr. Rothwell who cut off this piece of velvet, bringing -it away with him to prove—if proof should ever be required—that he -has stood in the secret crypt of the Ravengars. Do you still doubt me, -my lord, or do you require further proof?"</p> - -<p>On the contrary he was so certain of the truth of her words that he did -not attempt to verify them, but stood, fingering the velvet bow with a -dark expression of countenance.</p> - -<p>Looking upon Lorelie as an enemy to be silenced at all costs he had -brought her to this vault intending that she should never leave it. -Ivar was a reluctant accomplice, his reluctance arising not from any -conscientious scruples, but from the dangerous consequences attending -the commission of such a deed. The disappearance of the new viscountess -on the second day of her coming to Ravenhall would be an event that -could not fail to bring suspicion and inquiry in its train.</p> - -<p>Lorelie had divined their plot, and having taken steps for its -frustration, had fearlessly accompanied them to the destined scene of -her death. And here she was, a slender, fragile woman, in a lonely -situation, with no one to hear<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> her cry for help, in the presence of -two men desirous of her death, and yet, thanks to her forethought, as -safe as if attended by an armed escort.</p> - -<p>Her calm air, her radiant beauty, added fuel to the earl's secret -rage. If he had followed his first impulse he would have seized her -in his arms and twining his fingers around her throat have silenced -her forever. But prudence compelled him to refrain from violence. The -thought of having to face on the morrow the stern inquiring eyes of -Godfrey acted as a potent check.</p> - -<p>Fortunately for himself he had not proceeded to the length of openly -avowing his awful purpose: he was therefore free to deny it, if she had -any suspicion, as he was strongly disposed to believe that she had. -Besides, what mattered her suspicion? She had no real proof to offer -the world. Opposed to her single testimony was the joint testimony of -himself and her husband.</p> - -<p>He began to breathe freely again. The matter might yet end well as -regarded his own safety—the only consideration that troubled him.</p> - -<p>Lorelie, knowing the cause of his mortification, sat at ease in her -chair, secretly enjoying her triumph.</p> - -<p>At last, feigning to be angry, she exclaimed:—</p> - -<p>"How silent you are! Are you going to let me depart from this vault -without enlightening me as to its mysteries? Come, Ivar, play the part -of cicerone. Draw aside the curtain from each alcove, and give me -the names and biographies of the coffined dead. I am in an historic -genealogic mood."</p> - -<p>Ivar, not knowing whether to obey, glanced irresolutely at his father.</p> - -<p>"Gratify the curious fool," the earl muttered moodily.</p> - -<p>With an ill grace at having to obey the wife whom he hated, and -troubled by a secret foreboding that his guilty secret was about to -transpire, Ivar approached the alcove<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> nearest the door, and, lifting -the velvet drapery, disclosed a deep recess, the walls of which were -pierced with niches containing coffins.</p> - -<p>"This," he remarked sullenly, touching one, "is the coffin of Lancelot -Ravengar, the first earl of Ormsby."</p> - -<p>And so he proceeded from one alcove to another, giving the names of the -dead peers, his amiability not improved by the caustic remarks made by -Lorelie.</p> - -<p>"A dull catalogue of nonentities, unknown to fame," she said, when Ivar -had finished his recital. "But I observed that you entirely passed -over the fourth alcove. Why? Raise the curtain and let me see what it -contains."</p> - -<p>With manifest reluctance the viscount lifted the drapery, revealing in -the alcove a coffin on trestles.</p> - -<p>"This is the coffin of Urien Ravengar, my grandfather."</p> - -<p>"In saying that, you of course mean simply that that is the name on the -plate."</p> - -<p>"That coffin," broke in the earl in a harsh voice, "contains the body -of my father, Urien Ravengar."</p> - -<p>"I do not think so," replied Lorelie quietly.</p> - -<p>In a blaze of wrath the earl turned suddenly upon Ivar.</p> - -<p>"Fool! what have you been telling this woman?"</p> - -<p>"I? Nothing!" replied the viscount, shrinking back. And seeing -disbelief expressed on his father's face, he added, "Ask her: if she -speak truth she will tell you that nothing relating to this coffin has -passed my lips."</p> - -<p>"Then how—how?" began the earl: then, breaking off abruptly, he turned -to Lorelie with the question: "Tell me, then, what this coffin does -contain?"</p> - -<p>"That is what I wish to learn," she replied coolly. "It is my chief -reason for visiting this vault."</p> - -<p>"You will remain in ignorance."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I shall depart enlightened. Was it not from that coffin, Ivar," she -said, turning to him, "that you took the golden vase you gave me some -time ago?"</p> - -<p>She was drawing a bow at a venture, but the arrow found its mark. The -sweat glistened on Ivar's forehead. He betrayed all the confusion of a -guilty person. His father eyed him suspiciously.</p> - -<p>"A golden vase!" he exclaimed with a bitter smile. "Ivar, I must look -into that coffin!"</p> - -<p>Thus speaking he made his way to the alcove where the viscount was -standing. Moved by curiosity Lorelie also drew near.</p> - -<p>"Take the screwdriver, and remove the lid," said Lord Ormsby in a stern -voice.</p> - -<p>Sullenly and mutely Ivar proceeded to do his father's bidding.</p> - -<p>No one spoke, and nothing disturbed the stillness save the crisp -revolution of the screwdriver. With folded arms and compressed lips the -earl stood looking on, an expression on his face that boded ill for his -son should he find his suspicion verified.</p> - -<p>The last screw was loosed, and as Ivar raised the lid Lorelie's eyes -instantly closed, dazzled by a thousand rays of many-coloured light, -shooting up in all directions from the coffin, like bright spirits -rejoicing to be free.</p> - -<p>Putting up her hand to shield her sight from the radiance she -endeavoured to obtain a clear idea of what was before her.</p> - -<p>The coffin, of more than ordinary size, was a veritable treasure-chest, -filled to the lid with plate and precious stones, the latter forming by -far the larger part of the contents.</p> - -<p>Forgetful of her aversion to the earl, forgetful of her recent peril, -forgetful of everything but the sight before<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> her, Lorelie stood -with parted lips and dilated eyes, spellbound by the glittering -array of wealth. Her knowledge of art taught her that the antiquity -and workmanship of the ornaments far exceeded the intrinsic value -of the materials composing them. There was a crucifix, formed from -one entire piece of amber, the plunder of some Saxon monastery: an -ivory drinking-horn, engraved with runic letters, that spoke of the -old Norseland: a golden lamp, inscribed with a verse from the Koran, -a relic of Moorish rule in Spain: rare coins, that had found their -way from the Byzantine treasury. Every part of mediæval Europe had -apparently contributed some memorial to this store.</p> - -<p>But, as previously stated, the quantity of plate was small in -comparison with the gems. It was these that riveted Lorelie's -attention. Never in any collection of crown-jewels had she seen the -equal of these stones for variety and size, for brilliance and beauty. -The richest caliph of the East might have envied the possessor of such -a store. It suggested a dream of the "Arabian Nights."</p> - -<p>"Ah! you may well gaze!" cried the earl to Lorelie, in a fierce -exultant tone. "Find me the man in Britain who owns such wealth as -this! Take every object out of the coffin," he continued, addressing -Ivar. "Lay each and all upon the table. Let Lady Walden handle them -that she may realize the wealthy match she has made."</p> - -<p>Lorelie quite understood the earl's motive in making this display. -Since he could not get rid of her, his only other policy was to -conciliate her. She smiled disdainfully to herself. It was not to her -interest, however, to quarrel with him at present: she must simulate -friendly relations till the purpose for which she had come to Ravenhall -should be accomplished.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Yes, let me see everything," she said in seeming eagerness.</p> - -<p>Drawing the table to the entrance of the alcove Ivar proceeded to empty -the coffin of its contents. During this operation Lorelie's surprise -rose almost to fever-heat at sight of some of the objects drawn forth.</p> - -<p>When the coffin had been emptied, the earl produced a pocketbook -containing a list of the treasures.</p> - -<p>"'Article 1,'" he read out. "'Ancient Norse funereal urn, of pure gold, -set with opals.'"</p> - -<p>The viscount handed a vase to his father.</p> - -<p>"Safe, I see," said the earl. "I have been unjust to you in thought, -Ivar," he continued, apologetically. "When your wife spoke of a golden -vase given her by you, my thoughts associated themselves with this. I -acknowledge my error."</p> - -<p>Ivar cast an anxious look at Lorelie, dreading lest her words should -lead to the betrayal of his secret. But Lorelie said nothing, though in -a state of extreme amazement and perplexity: for the jewelled vessel -now in the earl's hands seemed to be the very vase given to her by Ivar -some weeks previously—the vase that had played so important a part in -her hypnotic experiment with Beatrice.</p> - -<p>On coming to Ravenhall Lorelie had left it behind her at The Cedars: -how came it to be here in the vault of the Ravengars? Was it a replica? -If so, it was certainly a marvellous imitation of the original, since -she could detect no points of difference.</p> - -<p>"Observe the lustre of the opals," said the earl, his eyes gleaming -with pleasure; and Lorelie perceived that his love of study, great -though it might be, had not quenched in him the passion of avarice. "An -interesting and precious relic of Norse antiquity, this!" continued the -earl, tapping the urn affectionately. "It<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> contains the ashes of Draco -the Golden, the founder of our family. From the grey dust within this -urn all we Ravengars have sprung."</p> - -<p>The vase at The Cedars also held the remains of the same Viking, if the -story told by Beatrice in her hypnotic trance was to be relied upon. -The supposition that the ashes of Orm had been divided between two urns -seemed absurd: and yet how otherwise was this mystery to be explained, -unless indeed Ivar, unknown to her, had paid a visit to The Cedars, -and having obtained the vase, had restored it to the place whence he -had originally taken it. Unlikely as this last hypothesis might be, it -seemed the only one capable of meeting the requirements of the case.</p> - -<p>The earl, having carefully deposited the urn in one corner of the -coffin, referred again to his catalogue.</p> - -<p>"'Article 2. Norse altar-ring of pure silver, inscribed with runic -characters.' Yes, this is it," he continued, receiving the article from -Ivar's hand. "The ring of Odin, that figures in our armorial shield. -Many a legend of blood clings to this relic. What a history it could -unfold, were it but endowed with speech!"</p> - -<p>The golden vase had puzzled Lorelie, but this silver relic puzzled -her still more. She did not doubt that the object before her was the -identical ring, the non-production of which at the trial of Eric -Marville, was one of the points that had told against him. She knew -the story of its theft from Mrs. Breakspear, and, like Idris, knew -not whither it had vanished. Now, after all these years, it thus -reappeared! By what circuitous route, through how many bloodstained -hands, had it passed before regaining its ancient abode?</p> - -<p>Mechanically she took the ring from the earl's hand. If this were -indeed the very relic, there should be a black mark upon the inner -perimeter of the ring. Upon <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span>examining it, however, she could discover -no stain at all: the metal band was bright and unsullied.</p> - -<p>Was this ring, like the vase, a replica: or was there truth in the -ancient legend that the bloodstain would vanish when some one should -meet with a violent end as an atonement for the slaying of the Norse -herald? Certain it was that a death <i>had</i> occurred in connection with -the finding of the treasure.</p> - -<p>With a bewildered air she handed back the ring to the earl, who placed -it within the coffin beside the vase, and turned again to his list.</p> - -<p>"'Article 3. A sapphire drinking-cup. Weight'—ah! look at this!" he -cried, breaking off from his reading in an ecstasy of delight. "Look at -it! Handle it! Admire it! Can the Dresden Gallery produce its like?"</p> - -<p>A low and prolonged cry of admiration flowed from Lorelie's lips. The -object handed to her by the earl was a miniature goblet, the tiny bowl, -stem, and stand being delicately sculptured from one entire sapphire. -It was a work of art, as well as a splendid gem. With the delight of -a child over a new toy Lorelie raised the gleaming brilliant aloft, -placing it between her eye and the light in order to mark its lovely -azure transparency. Its beauty was such as almost to reconcile her to -her lot with Ivar. To think if she chose, she might in time to come be -the joint-possessor of such a gem!</p> - -<p>"A million of money would not buy that cup," cried the earl, watching -her look of admiration. "It belonged originally to the great Caliph, -Abderahman the Second, and was taken by Draco and his Vikings at the -sacking of the Moorish palace at Seville. It vanished from human ken, -and has lain hidden in a night of ten centuries. The lapidaries of the -present age scoff at its description in history, believing the gem to -be the creation of Arabian fancy: but here it is, existing to-day, to -confute<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> their shallow scepticism. Were this gem known to the world it -would take the title of 'The Queen of Sapphires.'"</p> - -<p>Charmed beyond the power of words to describe, Lorelie turned the cup -slowly round, flashing the light from a hundred facets: and then—and -then—she made a discovery. A minute air-bubble was faintly visible in -the crystalline azure!</p> - -<p>She glanced at the earl. His triumphant face showed that he had not the -least inkling of the truth. She looked at Ivar, who happened at this -moment to be standing behind his father. The sudden change in Lorelie's -countenance assured the viscount of the fact of her discovery: and now, -he, the coward who had been willing to take her life, was appealing to -her by gesture and expression to keep her knowledge a secret from his -father.</p> - -<p>For that which gave the earl such pride was in truth nothing but an -artificial gem, a marvellous imitation of the real thing, but still -merely a piece of coloured glass!</p> - -<p>Lorelie became more perplexed than ever at this discovery. How came -Ivar to know that the gem was false, and why was he so anxious to -conceal the truth from his father?</p> - -<p>Then in a moment everything became clear.</p> - -<p>Always pressed for money, and precluded by his father's parsimony -from obtaining it, Ivar had formed the plan of appropriating a -certain portion of the plate and gems contained in the coffin. To -secure himself from detection he had artfully replaced the originals -by clever facsimiles, fabricated on the continent by goldsmiths and -glass-workers of the class who would ask no inconvenient questions -provided that they were well paid for their work. To obtain the -necessary counterfeits Ivar<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> must have conveyed the originals to the -continent, a very hazardous thing to do, seeing that if the earl had -paid a visit of inspection to the treasure during his son's absence, -discovery would have been inevitable. The counterfeits being completed, -Ivar had brought them concealed in the reliquary to Ravenhall, and had -transferred them to the coffin, his remark while doing so—the remark -overheard by Godfrey—to wit, "I hope Lorelie will be satisfied," -being doubtless drawn from him by the fact that Lorelie was often -making monetary demands upon him, a fact which she herself would be the -first to admit, though she little dreamed of the means taken by him to -supply her costly tastes. She could not avoid the feeling that, to some -extent, she was responsible for Ivar's peculations: and, therefore, -compliant with his wish, she kept silent, and permitted the earl to -remain in his ignorance.</p> - -<p>The contents of the coffin were a mixture of the genuine and the -spurious. The altar-ring was the genuine article: it would not have -paid for the trouble of counterfeiting. The jewelled vase was spurious: -on glancing again at this last, Lorelie wondered how she could have -taken the metal for gold: it now seemed to her eyes merely like common -bronze. The "sapphire cup" was but worthless glass: she almost sighed -at the thought that the lovely original should have been exchanged for -current coin of the realm. The selling of such a gem was an act little -short of sacrilege.</p> - -<p>"Well may you linger over it!" cried the earl, thinking that her long -retention of the cup was the result of admiration. "Such a gem as that -is too lovely for earth, too precious even for an empress to drink from."</p> - -<p>"But not for a Ravengar, surely?" said Lorelie.</p> - -<p>And taking up the decanter she filled the azure cup with wine, and held -it out to him.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Drink, my lord," she said smiling, and recalling his own words, "''Tis -of a choice vintage, one of the rarest of the Madeiras.'"</p> - -<p>But from that cup the earl recoiled as from the summons of Death -himself.</p> - -<p>"Why, you start as though 'twere poison," laughed Lorelie. "Will you -not drink, Ivar?" she added, turning to the viscount and offering him -the cup. "What! and do you, too, shrink from a few drops of innocent -Malvazia? refuse the honour of drinking from the great Abderahman's -cup? the caliph's own, veritable, genuine, historic cup! you -understand?"</p> - -<p>He did—fully. Stepping forward, she said in a fierce thrilling -whisper:—</p> - -<p>"How much is your life worth, if I let your father know that this cup -is but a piece of coloured glass?"</p> - -<p>It was not in Lorelie's nature to take pleasure in another's pain; yet -on the present occasion the despair and fear expressed in Ivar's eyes -was a luxury to her, almost compensating for his attempt on her life.</p> - -<p>"It was for your sake I did it," he muttered with white lips.</p> - -<p>Contemptuously turning away from him, she said:—</p> - -<p>"Well, then, if neither will drink, I, too, shall refuse. I will -imitate those excellent examples, my husband and father. Let us be -classical and pour out a libation. Here's to the great Archfiend -himself, the author and giver of the treasure, for Heaven, I am -convinced, has had little to do with it."</p> - -<p>She inverted the cup: but, either by accident or design, the greater -part of the liquid fell in splashes upon her dress, very few drops -reaching the floor.</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * *</p> - -<p>On reaching her bedroom Lorelie's first care was to lock the door: her -next, to cut from her dress every <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span>portion stained with wine. These -fragments of cloth she placed in a glass phial, steeping them in water. -Then the spirit that had sustained her through the long and terrible -ordeal gave way, and reeling forward she fell heavily across the bed.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XVIII</span> <span class="smaller">A CRANIOLOGICAL EXPERIMENT</span></h2> - -<p>Idris Breakspear strolled slowly to and fro beneath the lime-trees -in the garden of Wave Crest, reading for the twentieth time a letter -received by him the previous evening.</p> - -<p>Accompanying the letter was a note worded thus:—"The enclosed -speaks for itself. Can you ever forgive me for my seven years' -silence?—<span class="smcap">Lorelie Rochefort.</span>"</p> - -<p>The missive forwarded to Idris was her mother's confession relative -to the murder of M. Duchesne, a confession which, it need scarcely be -said, overwhelmed Idris with amazement.</p> - -<p>The hope entertained by him during so many long years was at last -realized: it was now within his power to clear his father's memory; -but the knowledge brought with it as much pain as pleasure, for to -establish his father's innocence was to bring ignominy upon the name of -the woman he loved.</p> - -<p>A soft footfall attracted his attention, and raising his eyes from -the letter he saw Lady Walden herself. Sadly and timidly she stood, -obviously in doubt as to the sort of reception she would meet with. To -face the reproachful eyes of Idris was a more trying ordeal than that -of accompanying the earl to the terrible vault.</p> - -<p>She was the first to speak.</p> - -<p>"You are reading my mother's letter, I perceive. You know now that it -was my father and not yours that murdered Duchesne. I have come," she -faltered, "I have come to ask, yet scarcely daring to ask, whether you -can<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> forgive me for maintaining silence hitherto. I have longed to tell -you the truth, but have been afraid. Do not," she added, breathlessly, -"do not reproach me. You cannot reproach me more than my own conscience -has."</p> - -<p>The look of sorrow in her eyes instantly effaced from Idris' mind all -resentment for his father's wrongs. The oath sworn to his mother in -childhood's days became forgotten.</p> - -<p>"Lady Walden," he replied, "if there be anything on my part to forgive, -I freely forgive. I cannot blame you for seeking to shield your -father's name."</p> - -<p>The look of gratitude that came over her face thrilled Idris, who would -gladly have forgiven her ten times as much for such a glance as she now -gave him.</p> - -<p>She had expected to be treated with coldness, if not with anger by -Idris, instead of which she received from him the same tender respect -as heretofore. She trembled with secret pleasure to think that she -still held a place in his regard.</p> - -<p>"And now you know the truth, you will publish it to the world," she -said.</p> - -<p>"I think not," he replied, speaking slowly and thoughtfully. "No, I am -sure I shall not."</p> - -<p>"You will not redeem your father's memory from guilt?" said Lorelie, -with a little gasp of surprise. "Why not?"</p> - -<p>"Because the fair name of Lady Walden must not be darkened by the -shadow of the past."</p> - -<p>Her eyes drooped. She had no need to ask why he was desirous of -shielding her name from reproach, knowing full well that it was from -love of her.</p> - -<p>"But this—this is not just," she said in a low voice.</p> - -<p>"To proclaim the truth would injure the living," he replied, "without -in any way benefiting the dead."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span></p> - -<p>"It is not right," she declared, "that your father and you should bear -the stigma that belongs to me and mine. I will proclaim the truth -myself."</p> - -<p>"Lady Walden, if it be your desire to please me, you will maintain -silence. But pardon my discourtesy, you are standing all this time."</p> - -<p>He led her to a garden-seat, and took his place beside her.</p> - -<p>"You once asked me," said Lorelie, "to let you read my father's -correspondence. I have brought his letters with me. They are here."</p> - -<p>She held out a packet of letters.</p> - -<p>"Will you not read them to me, Lady Walden? You can then omit what you -think necessary."</p> - -<p>"I have no wish to conceal anything contained in them," she answered, -placing the letters in his hand. "But before you read, let me forestall -and correct an erroneous impression you may be likely to draw from -them. Guided partly by these letters, partly by other considerations, -I have, till a few days ago, entertained the belief that the Earl of -Ormsby was none other than—your father, Eric Marville."</p> - -<p>Despite his desire to be serious Idris could not refrain from smiling -at this statement.</p> - -<p>"And what has led you to discard this extraordinary theory?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"I was glancing yesterday over a copy of an old French -newspaper—<i>L'Étoile de la Bretagne</i>—in which is given a full -description of your father as he appeared at his trial in the Palais de -Justice. Now in this account Eric Marville is described as having very -dark eyes, whereas Lord Ormsby's eyes are light grey in colour."</p> - -<p>"Which deprives me of the honour of claiming an earl as my father," -said Idris, with an air of mock disappointment.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I do not think you will esteem it much of an honour when you hear what -I have to say. But, first, will you not read these letters?"</p> - -<p>Idris, though much surprised by her words, made no further comment, but -turned to the correspondence of Captain Rochefort.</p> - -<p>Lorelie had arranged the letters in chronological order, and Idris -began his perusal, becoming more interested with each successive -missive. When he had finished reading he looked extremely grave, and -said:—</p> - -<p>"The final letters, interpreted by what we know to have taken place -within Ormfell, would almost seem to suggest—how shall I say it?—that -your father was killed by mine!"</p> - -<p>"That at first was my belief, but I know now it cannot have been."</p> - -<p>"I trust that you are right. But why cannot it have been?"</p> - -<p>"Beatrice in her hypnotic trance recognized the face of the assassin. -But she has never seen either your father or mine. Therefore we cannot -impute the murder to either of these."</p> - -<p>"True!" replied Idris, with a sudden feeling of relief. "But tell me, -Lady Walden, what face <i>did</i> she see, for I am convinced that you know."</p> - -<p>"If," she replied evasively, "if we can discover the present possessor -of the Viking's treasure, we shall obtain a strong clue to the -assassin?"</p> - -<p>"Undoubtedly."</p> - -<p>"Well, then, the Viking's treasure is at Ravenhall, concealed in the -secret vault."</p> - -<p>And she proceeded to intensify Idris' surprise by relating the incident -of her visit to the crypt, saying nothing, however, as to the earl's -purpose in taking her thither.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Who placed the treasure there?" asked Idris.</p> - -<p>"Four persons only have had access to this vault—the earl, Viscount -Walden, the family solicitor, and the Rector of Ormsby. The two latter -we can at once dismiss from our list of 'suspects.'"</p> - -<p>Idris turned a startled face upon Lorelie.</p> - -<p>"Surely you would not have me charge your husband—your father-in-law, -with murder!"</p> - -<p>"I strongly suspect the latter from the perturbed air manifested by him -when I once hinted at my knowledge of the crime."</p> - -<p>"The grave and dignified earl the author of such a deed! Impossible!"</p> - -<p>"Not more impossible than that my own father should be a murderer!"</p> - -<p>Idris started at her bitter tone. Truly the Fates had dealt hardly with -her in the matter of kinsfolk. Those ladies of Ormsby who were disposed -to envy Mademoiselle Rivière her new rank would have had little cause -for envy could they have seen into her mind at that moment.</p> - -<p>"I have found," continued Lorelie, "the very instrument with which the -deed was wrought. It is here."</p> - -<p>As she spoke she produced a jewelled hat-pin shaped like a stiletto, -the steel blade being broken off short at the hilt.</p> - -<p>"This belonged to the late Countess of Ormsby, in whose jewel-case -it has lain for over twenty years: at least, so the old housekeeper -declares. The blade was broken a short time before the death of the -countess, and has never been repaired."</p> - -<p>"Does the housekeeper give any account of how the steel came to be -broken?"</p> - -<p>"She tells a very significant story. The countess lost this stiletto -when walking in the park one day. On <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span>discovering her loss she -immediately set the servants to look for it, but their search was -unavailing. Next morning, however, the earl returned the hat-pin to the -countess, saying that while taking a walk by moonlight he had found it -in its broken condition.</p> - -<p>"Now my belief is that the earl, having discovered that Ormfell was -the site of a buried treasure, was proceeding thither at night, either -alone or attended by a servant, for the purpose of opening the hillock, -and while on his way through the park he chanced to light upon his -wife's hat-pin. Naturally he did not leave it lying upon the ground, -but picked it up and placed it upon his person. And this is the weapon -with which he attacked the other man, whoever he may have been, that -was with him in the hillock. When the countess next morning received -back her hat-pin from her husband, she little knew of the terrible use -to which it had been put."</p> - -<p>"Your theory, if correct, proves that the deed was unpremeditated, -otherwise the earl would have gone provided with a more efficient -weapon. Do you know the date of the countess's death?"</p> - -<p>"She died in the autumn of '77."</p> - -<p>"Then the crime must have taken place more than twenty-one years ago."</p> - -<p>Idris fell to thinking: and the result of his thought was that it would -be an ungrateful task to bring to justice an aged peer for a crime -committed more than twenty years ago. For all he knew to the contrary -the deed might have been a case of justifiable homicide: the earl had -perhaps been compelled to slay the other in self-defence. Besides, -was he not Lorelie's father-in-law? If ignominy fell upon the House -of Ravengar it must fall likewise upon her. No breath of scandal must -touch her name. Idris felt that his hands were tied: he could make no -move in the matter.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span></p> - -<p>"We know the author of the deed, it seems," he murmured, "but the -identity of the victim still remains a mystery. Who was he?"</p> - -<p>"That is a problem I am trying to solve."</p> - -<p>"And you say the Viking's treasure is in the crypt of Ravenhall? What -is Lord Ormsby's object in keeping it concealed?"</p> - -<p>"I can but guess. Treasure-trove, as you know, is the property of -the Crown: therefore the earl, on finding it, was compelled to act -circumspectly. The sudden acquisition of a vast quantity of plate -and jewels might have given rise to awkward questions on the part of -the steward, and especially on the part of Lanfranc, the Ravenhall -solicitor, a man somewhat given to suspicion. The earl was therefore -obliged to secrete his ill-acquired wealth: and this he did by placing -it within one of the coffins in the crypt, gratifying his avarice by -occasional visits of inspection. That is my theory, but of course I may -be wrong."</p> - -<p>"Mortifying that he should have to secrete it," remarked Idris, "when -if the story of the runic ring be true, the wealth is his by hereditary -right, as the eldest lineal descendant of Orm the Viking."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Breakspear, your right to that treasure is greater than the -earl's."</p> - -<p>Idris was disposed to think so, too, in virtue of the long years he had -spent in his attempts to decipher the runic ring. But this was not what -Lorelie meant.</p> - -<p>"Did you not notice what my father says in one of these letters, that -Eric Marville claimed to be heir to a peerage?"</p> - -<p>"It did not escape me. A surprising statement, if true."</p> - -<p>"And the interest taken by your father in the runic ring, the heirloom -of the Ravengars, proves his peerage to have been the Earldom of -Ormsby."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I fear you are dealing in fanciful hypotheses," smiled Idris.</p> - -<p>"Your likeness to the family portraits of the Ravengars is very -remarkable."</p> - -<p>"Mere coincidence."</p> - -<p>"Not so. It is as certain that you are the rightful Earl of Ormsby as -it is that the sun is shining."</p> - -<p>"But how? In what way?" cried Idris, impressed, in spite of himself, by -her air of conviction.</p> - -<p>"That I cannot tell. I am trying to find out."</p> - -<p>"I thank you, Lady Walden, for interesting yourself in my fortunes, but -supposing that your surmise should prove correct—what then?"</p> - -<p>"You will take the title and station that are rightfully yours."</p> - -<p>"And, by so doing, deprive you of your position? No, Lady Walden, I -cannot do that. If, as is implied by your words, you are seeking to -prove that I have a claim to the Earldom of Ormsby, I would ask you to -desist. Let matters be as they are. I am quite content to remain plain -Idris Breakspear, and to leave to you the coronet of the Ravengars. -I do not believe that I am of noble birth, but in any case I will do -nothing detrimental to your position."</p> - -<p>"My position!" thought Lorelie, bitterly, as she recalled the attempt -made upon her life. "Heaven help me to escape from my position! But," -she said, aloud, "you are doing a wrong to your future wife. She may -not appreciate the generosity that deprives her of a coronet."</p> - -<p>"My future wife!" smiled Idris. "I shall never marry."</p> - -<p>"And why not?"</p> - -<p>"They do not love who love twice."</p> - -<p>Lorelie, knowing his meaning, trembled, miserable and happy at one and -the same time.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I am glad," he continued, "to have this opportunity of saying -good-bye, Lady Walden, for I leave England soon, probably forever."</p> - -<p>Lorelie received this news with dismay. Whether the feeling of pleasure -derivable from Idris' friendship was a right or a wrong feeling she -had never stopped to inquire, but it <i>was</i> a pleasure, and a sense of -desolation fell upon her on hearing that she was to enjoy it no longer.</p> - -<p>"A friend of mine has received a secret commission from the Indian -Government to explore Tibet, the tour to include the forbidden city of -Lassa. I have agreed to accompany him."</p> - -<p>Lorelie was not ignorant of the perils attending such an enterprise.</p> - -<p>"You will never return," she cried.</p> - -<p>"So much the better," he answered quietly.</p> - -<p>She glanced at him for a moment, and then her eyes fell, for she -understood him. Involuntarily her mind was led to contrast the husband, -who had sought to take her life, with Idris, so anxious to keep her -name fair before the world: Idris, whose love was such that he was -willing to sacrifice everything—even his life—for her sake! She could -not hide the tears glistening beneath her lashes. The situation was -a trying one for both, but fortunately at this moment a third person -appeared on the scene.</p> - -<p>Beatrice emerged from the garden-porch, and Lorelie, averting her head, -essayed to remove the traces of tears from her eyes.</p> - -<p>Beatrice gave her visitor a glad greeting, but there was a subdued air -about her, due, as Lorelie knew, to sorrow at the thought of Idris' -departure.</p> - -<p>"Has Mr. Breakspear told you that he is going to leave us?" she asked, -and receiving an affirmative, she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> continued mournfully:—"As this is -perhaps the last time we shall be together you must stay with us as -long as you can. We are just about to have luncheon. Will you not join -us?"</p> - -<p>Lorelie readily assented, and went up-stairs with Beatrice to remove -her hat and mantle.</p> - -<p>"You are not looking very well, Lady Walden."</p> - -<p>"No, Beatrice. And I shall never be well again."</p> - -<p>Something in her tone went to Beatrice's heart: she guessed that -Lorelie's unhappiness arose from Ivar's ill-treatment of her.</p> - -<p>The beautiful face was suffused by an expression so miserable that -Beatrice, the maiden of eighteen, involuntarily drew the married -woman of twenty-three within her arms and kissed her consolingly, as -though the viscountess were a little child. And Lorelie, glad of such -sympathy, clung to Beatrice's embrace.</p> - -<p>"Beatrice," she said presently, "if you should hear that I have slipped -from a battlement on the roof of Ravenhall and dislocated my neck, or -that I have lost my life by falling into the lake in the park, remember -that this event will not have happened by accident."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?" gasped Beatrice, thinking that Lorelie was -contemplating suicide.</p> - -<p>"Let your brother say whether I am wrong. Did he analyze the contents -of the phial that I sent him?"</p> - -<p>"He said that the water contained—I forget how many grains of -strychnine," replied Beatrice, innocently.</p> - -<p>"Then I was right," said Lorelie, with a face as white as death. "O, -Beatrice, the earl and Ivar tried to poison me!"</p> - -<p>"Lady Walden, how dare you say that?" said Beatrice, with a burst of -indignation.</p> - -<p>It was against Ravengars that Lorelie's charge was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> made, and Beatrice -suddenly remembered that she herself was a Ravengar. Bad as Ivar might -be she could not believe him capable of murder: and as for the earl, -had he not always treated her with kindness?</p> - -<p>But when Lorelie began to relate the incident of her visit to the -crypt, Beatrice's scepticism slowly vanished, and she listened with a -growing horror upon her face. And when the story was ended, she sat -cold and trembling, unable at first to speak.</p> - -<p>"Are they aware that you suspected their design?" she asked.</p> - -<p>"I do not think so. I continue to speak and act as if I have every -confidence in them."</p> - -<p>"How can you bear to live with them? What they have attempted once they -may attempt again. How can you trust yourself at the same table with -them?"</p> - -<p>"By eating of the dishes of which they eat; they are not likely to -poison themselves. I must remain at Ravenhall till I have accomplished -my task."</p> - -<p>"And what is that?"</p> - -<p>"To obtain proofs of Mr. Breakspear's right to the earldom: for, -Beatrice, I have reasons for believing that he is the rightful Earl of -Ormsby."</p> - -<p>And Lorelie proceeded to repeat the arguments she had addressed to -Idris, with some others in addition.</p> - -<p>"Have you told Mr. Breakspear this?" said Beatrice, breathless with -excitement.</p> - -<p>"Yes, and he refuses to move in the matter."</p> - -<p>"But we will make him," cried Beatrice, impulsively. "We will persuade -him to give up this mad journey to Tibet. Lady Walden——"</p> - -<p>"Do not recall my unhappiness by using that name: besides it is not -justly mine. Call me Lorelie."</p> - -<p>"Lorelie, then. I will come to Ravenhall and live there with you."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span></p> - -<p>Lorelie's smile was like sunlight sweeping over a dark landscape.</p> - -<p>"If anything could make me happy it would be your daily companionship, -dearest Beatrice."</p> - -<p>"It is not safe for you to live alone at Ravenhall," continued -Beatrice. "I will return with you to keep watch and ward over you. -Together we will work and make what discoveries we can. If Idris really -be the owner of Ravenhall we will do our best to establish him in his -rights."</p> - -<p>The light of justice shone from Beatrice's eyes. There should be a -righting of the wrong. Since the earl and Ivar had not hesitated at -murder, let them suffer the punishment due to their guilt by losing -their rank and estates.</p> - -<p>"And when that is done," said Lorelie, "it will be for me to retire -to a convent, and for Idris to place a coronet on these tresses," she -added, touching Beatrice's hair.</p> - -<p>"Ah, no!" replied Beatrice, sadly. "He will not marry me. Idris never -loved any one but you. It is impossible for him to have you, yet he -will never love any one else."</p> - -<p>Lorelie was touched to the quick by Beatrice's look of distress. She -felt that if she herself had not appeared upon the scene, Beatrice -might now be happy in the love of Idris.</p> - -<p>"Beatrice, believe me, I would gladly die if my death would enable you -to gain his love."</p> - -<p>Beatrice did not doubt the sincerity of this assurance. Brave-hearted -and generous the little maiden harboured no resentment against her -rival.</p> - -<p>"He will come to you some day," said Lorelie, kissing the other -tenderly. "He has been with you long enough to know your worth. He will -find a want of something in his life when he is away from you. He will -begin to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> ask himself what it is. 'It is Beatrice,' his heart will -answer: and he will return to seek you."</p> - -<p>Beatrice shook her head, refusing to believe in this bright forecast.</p> - -<p>"Have you told Idris of the attempt made upon your life?" she asked.</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>"We shall be doing well not to tell him of it. He is hot-blooded where -your welfare is concerned: his rage would lead him to horsewhip both -the earl and Ivar, or to do something equally rash. It is for us to -mete out the punishment. We will do it more circumspectly. We will lull -them into a false state of security, and then, when they least expect -it——"</p> - -<p>What more she would have said was cut short by Godfrey who, standing -at the foot of the staircase, asked whether he and Idris were or were -<i>not</i> to have the society of the ladies at luncheon; and thus adjured -the two went down to the dining-room.</p> - -<p>Godfrey was much struck with Lorelie's pallid look, and determined, -before letting her depart, to take a diagnosis of her state, and -prescribe accordingly.</p> - -<p>Though full of wonder when Beatrice began to tell him of her intention -to live at Ravenhall as Lorelie's companion, he made no objection, -surmising that there was a mystery somewhere, and that she had good -reason for the course she was taking.</p> - -<p>"I shall be sorry to lose you, Trixie," he remarked.</p> - -<p>"It is only for a time," replied his sister.</p> - -<p>"By the way," said Godfrey, turning to address Idris, "I attended an -old gentleman yesterday, one enthusiastically devoted to botany, and -a little 'touched,' I fancy, over his favourite pursuit. He told me -among other matters that he had once sown some mandrake seeds on the -northern side of Ormfell with a view of learning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> whether the plant -would outlive the rigours of our Northumbrian winter. Great was his -indignation to find one day that the plant had been wilfully plucked -up by the roots. I did not tell him that I could give the names of the -guilty persons, but contented myself with suggesting that the renewal -of his botanic experiment might have more success if confined to the -limits of his own garden."</p> - -<p>"Ah! then there is one mystery cleared up," observed Idris.</p> - -<p>"But there are others," remarked Lorelie, "which you are leaving behind -unsolved. Cannot you persuade Mr. Breakspear," she added, turning to -Godfrey, "to abandon his expedition?"</p> - -<p>"O, Idris will come back safely," cheerfully responded the surgeon, who -did not view the enterprise with the same fears as the ladies. "He will -return covered with glory. He will have added a valuable chapter to -geographical science, and will of course write a book."</p> - -<p>"Of surprising dulness," interjected Idris.</p> - -<p>"Of surpassing interest," corrected Godfrey. "I wonder you never took -to authorship, for you have what I classify as the literary head."</p> - -<p>"Don't! My vanity is great enough already."</p> - -<p>"Did you not know that Godfrey is an expert in phrenology?" asked -Beatrice.</p> - -<p>"Not till this moment. But the news comes very opportunely. Man, -know thyself! Godfrey, give me an introduction to Idris Breakspear. -Manipulate my cranium, and let me have a true account of my character. -Be critical, and spare not!"</p> - -<p>And Godfrey, responsive to Idris' humour, proceeded to make a study of -his head.</p> - -<p>"Take my note-book, Miss Ravengar," smiled Idris, pushing it towards -her, "and record my wicked characteristics. Now, Godfrey, begin."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Amativeness," said the doctor, placing his finger-tips beneath Idris' -ears, while Beatrice laughingly wrote the word.</p> - -<p>"You begin alphabetically, do you?" remarked Idris. "Amativeness: that, -being interpreted, meaneth love—of—of the ladies generally. That -organ is very large, of course?"</p> - -<p>"No. Fairly large."</p> - -<p>"O, come, you must be making a mistake. Feel again! It's a libel to -limit my amatory sentiment to 'fairly large' only."</p> - -<p>"I put it down as seven," replied Godfrey.</p> - -<p>"What's the highest figure to which you ascend?"</p> - -<p>"Nine—in my system."</p> - -<p>"And I do not attain the top figure? Can't you make it eight, or at -least seven and three-quarters?"</p> - -<p>"The pupil must not dictate to the master," said Beatrice.</p> - -<p>"Combativeness," Godfrey went on, his fingers ascending slightly.</p> - -<p>"Combativeness," repeated Idris: "readiness to fight for—for the -ladies. Don't say that isn't large."</p> - -<p>"It is. Very large indeed."</p> - -<p>"Good! There may be some truth in phrenology after all. Put -'combativeness' down as nine, Miss Ravengar. Go on, Godfrey! Next item, -please!"</p> - -<p>So amid Idris' badinage Godfrey proceeded with his statements, all of -which Beatrice laughingly wrote down. Presently a grave expression -stole over Godfrey's face, and before he had ended his task the -expression had become one of doubt and perplexity. Both Lorelie and -Beatrice noticed it. Idris, however, was precluded by his position from -seeing Godfrey's look.</p> - -<p>"Well, now, this is very pleasant reading," said Idris banteringly, -receiving his pocketbook from Beatrice, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> glancing over what she had -written. "I feel as a returned spirit may be supposed to feel when he -peruses the virtues inscribed on his tombstone and fails to recognize -himself. Such a character as this, duly attested and signed 'G. -Rothwell, M. D.,' ought to procure me a free pass to any part of Tibet."</p> - -<p>He began to talk of his intended expedition, and a trifling argument -arising between himself and Godfrey relative to some point of Tibetan -geography, Beatrice, as if to settle the dispute, wickedly despatched -Idris to the library for a book that she knew he would not find there.</p> - -<p>As soon as he had vanished through the doorway she turned to her -brother.</p> - -<p>"Godfrey, why did you look so serious while studying Idris' head?"</p> - -<p>"Did I look serious?"</p> - -<p>"Did you look——? Just listen to him, Lorelie! Don't equivocate. You -have discovered something: I know you have. Something that troubles -you. What is it? Didn't Idris' character impress you favourably?"</p> - -<p>"Idris' character is exactly as I gave it."</p> - -<p>"Then why look as if he were an ogre?"</p> - -<p>"It is but twenty-four hours since I examined another head."</p> - -<p>"Whose?"</p> - -<p>"You shall learn presently. Here is the result of my study of '<i>Nemo</i>,' -as I call him."</p> - -<p>He drew out his own pocketbook and directed Beatrice's attention to a -certain page headed "<i>Character of Nemo</i>."</p> - -<p>Very much puzzled, Beatrice conned his notes, but had not proceeded -very far before she snatched up Idris' pocketbook and began to compare -the remarks in each.</p> - -<p>"'Amativeness—seven. Combativeness—nine,'" she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> murmured, reading the -list of characteristics. "Why, there is no difference between them," -she exclaimed. "Idris and your '<i>Nemo</i>' have heads exactly alike."</p> - -<p>"The very thought that struck me just now."</p> - -<p>"Who is this '<i>Nemo</i>'?"</p> - -<p>"That is what I wish to know."</p> - -<p>"Didn't the man give you his name, then?"</p> - -<p>"I didn't ask him for it."</p> - -<p>"Why not?"</p> - -<p>"He wouldn't have told me if I had."</p> - -<p>"He wished to remain incognito?"</p> - -<p>"He didn't give verbal expression to that effect in fact he had lost -the power of speaking."</p> - -<p>"Was he dumb, then?"</p> - -<p>"Very much so."</p> - -<p>"O, Godfrey, do be explicit, and speak so that we can understand."</p> - -<p>"Truth to tell, the man was dead!"</p> - -<p>Beatrice gave a little scream.</p> - -<p>"And his head reposes in that cabinet," continued Godfrey.</p> - -<p>"You mean the Viking's skull?"</p> - -<p>"You've hit the mark."</p> - -<p>"But what—what——?"</p> - -<p>"What made me desirous of learning the character of the man to whom the -skull belonged? A passing whim—nothing more. As I was casually opening -the cabinet yesterday the skull caught my eye. 'Come!' said I, 'let me -see the sort of fellow you were when alive.' And this," added Godfrey, -tapping his note-book, "this is the result. Idris spends long years in -deciphering a runic inscription on an ancient ring: acting on the vague -hints furnished by it he undertakes an expedition to Ormfell, obtaining -as his reward a skull whose phrenological development corresponds -exactly with his own.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> He was quite right in his opinion that the -Viking's tomb would contain a clue towards solving his father's fate, -for it is my firm belief that the skull in that cabinet is none other -than the skull of Eric Marville!"</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XIX</span> <span class="smaller">THE VENGEANCE OF THE SKULL</span></h2> - -<p>Viscount Walden's twenty-first birthday was drawing near, and Ravenhall -was making grand preparations for the occasion. Invitations were -issued to the local magnates and their families—invitations eagerly -accepted, for everybody was curious to see both the earl, who had -so long secluded himself from society, and the new viscountess, -whose secret marriage had invested her with a romantic interest. -Entertainment of various kinds was provided, for the earl's guests, -as well as for the tenantry of his estates, the day to terminate in -a grand ball, preceded by the performance of a poetic drama, written -by Lady Walden, and entitled <i>The Fatal Skull</i>, a drama in which the -authoress herself was to take the leading <i>rôle</i>. The other <i>dramatis -personæ</i> were drawn from a select circle of Ormsby society, and their -frequent rehearsals filled Ravenhall with a mirth and a gaiety not -known in that gloomy mansion for many years. Lorelie took upon herself -the office of stage-directress, and flung herself heart and soul into -the work. She was ably seconded by Beatrice Ravengar, who, to the -surprise of everybody in Ormsby, had left her brother Godfrey in order -to be the companion of the new viscountess. A number of carpenters and -scene-shifters from London had transformed the great hall of the castle -into a suitable stage and auditorium. Scenic artists were busy at the -canvas. Money was freely lavished upon the appropriate theatrical -costumes. A leading society-paper had asked for, and had obtained, -the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> favour of having a reporter present to record the day's doings; -in short, everything had been done to ensure success, and the amateur -actors looked forward to the event with a pleasurable zest.</p> - -<p>The great day came at last, as sunny and fair as could be desired. -The earl moved about among his guests and tenantry with a dignified -courtesy, bestowing 'nods and becks and wreathed smiles' on all sides, -in a manner surprising to those who had hitherto regarded him as a sort -of gloomy Manfred.</p> - -<p>Ivar was on excellent terms with himself: he flirted with the ladies, -and patronized the young men with a truly lordly air. A descendant -of a noble house: heir to a splendid estate: husband of a wife -whose loveliness and literary abilities were the theme of universal -praise—what more could he desire? Indifferent himself to Lorelie's -charms he was not displeased to witness the admiration they excited in -others. She was a part of his property, as it were: it was but fitting -that she should receive her tribute of praise along with the other -items of the Ravengar estate.</p> - -<p>Lady Walden made an ideal hostess, and the guests whispered in -secret that if the rumour were true that her own family was not of -the highest, her beauty and sprightliness amply compensated for the -deficiency. From her manner one would have thought her the happiest -lady in the county. Once only did she give evidence of the real -feeling that lay masked beneath her pleasant exterior, and that was -when the Mayor of Ormsby, standing upon the flight of steps leading -up to the grand entrance of Ravenhall, read a long address to Ivar, -congratulating him on the attainment of his majority, and expressing -the hope that both the viscount and his lady might long live to enjoy -their exalted rank. At this Lorelie's lips curved for a moment into a -bitter smile, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> she cast a significant glance at Beatrice, who was -seldom absent from her side that day. To those who noted the smile it -recurred with peculiar force upon the morrow.</p> - -<p>With the coming of twilight Beatrice stole away from the company to a -private portion of the park, taking her course towards a little gateway -in the western wall. Near this gate was a wooden bench, and seating -herself upon it she drew forth a telegram and glanced at the message it -contained, which was singularly brief:—"Will be at the place appointed -by seven o'clock."</p> - -<p>The sender of this telegram was punctual to the minute. St. Oswald's -Church clock was chiming the hour when there came a knocking at the -wicket-gate. Instantly unlocking it Beatrice threw it open, and stood -face to face with Idris Breakspear.</p> - -<p>She greeted him with an air which Idris intuitively felt to be a -foreboding of grave things.</p> - -<p>"On the point of sailing for India," he observed, "I received a letter -from Miss Ravengar bidding me return at once to Ormsby. Such a message -cannot be ignored, and therefore I am here. And the question is, 'Why -am I here?'"</p> - -<p>"I have not sent for you without cause. It is your duty to follow me, -to ask no questions, but to await developments."</p> - -<p>"And where are you taking me?" he asked, as she locked the gate.</p> - -<p>"There!" exclaimed Beatrice, appealing to an imaginary audience. "His -first utterance is a defiance of my orders. However, I will answer that -question. You are coming with me to Ravenhall."</p> - -<p>Impressed by the oddity of her manner Idris made no demur but offered -his arm and accepted her guidance.</p> - -<p>Their way led by a private path amid dense shrubbery:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> now and again -through a long-drawn vista in the trees Idris caught a glimpse of the -more distant portions of the park.</p> - -<p>The dusk of a lovely summer's eve was descending upon the lordly -terraces and verdant lawns of Ravenhall. Mellowed by the distance the -music of a regimental band floated on the air. <i>Al fresco</i> dancing was -taking place beside the margin of a grey-gleaming lake. Above was a -sky of darkest blue: below, the myriad lanterns shining amid the dark -foliage made the park appear like a scene from fairyland.</p> - -<p>Idris contemplated the picture with mixed feelings. If—and it was a -very great "if," he admitted—Lorelie was right in asserting that he -himself was the true Earl of Ormsby, then all this fair estate was -really his. Well, he had resigned his claim in favour of Lorelie, and -would not go from his word. But not till this moment did he fully -realize the extent of the sacrifice.</p> - -<p>"It is a gala day, I perceive," he remarked. "I learned on my way -from the station that Lord Walden has attained his majority. He has a -splendid estate <i>in futuro</i>. He ought to be a proud man to-day."</p> - -<p>"He <i>is</i> proud, ignorant that, like Agamemnon, he is treading on purple -to his doom."</p> - -<p>Idris was surprised at these words, surprised still more by the -bitterness with which Beatrice emphasized them. What did this speech -portend?</p> - -<p>"You have been living at Ravenhall for the past two months, I -understand?" he remarked, for want of something better to say.</p> - -<p>"Yes, as Lorelie's companion. This is our last day here. Lorelie and I -take our departure to-night."</p> - -<p>Idris was more mystified than ever. Beatrice smiled as if enjoying his -perplexity.</p> - -<p>They had now reached the western wing of the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span>mansion, and Beatrice, -unlocking a small door, invited Idris to enter.</p> - -<p>"Am I to be smuggled in?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, for this once, Cousin Idris."</p> - -<p>"<i>Cousin</i> Idris," he repeated, emphasizing the first word.</p> - -<p>"Did I say 'cousin'?" she asked, with a simulation of innocence. "Well, -I won't withdraw the term. Let it remain."</p> - -<p>Idris stared hard at her, trying to read her thoughts. If he were -really a Ravengar it might be that he was cousin to Beatrice. Was it -possible that she and Lorelie had obtained proofs of this? Nay, could -it be true that he was really entitled to the earldom? Had he been -summoned here by Beatrice to take part in some plot by which the earl -should be made to confess himself a usurper? Full of wonder he silently -followed his guide. They traversed several corridors and ascended two -staircases without encountering any one, a fact which led Idris to -believe that Beatrice had prearranged matters with a view to keeping -his visit a secret. Opening a door in an upper corridor Beatrice drew -him forward, remarking: "This is our destination."</p> - -<p>Idris, looking around, found himself in a dainty little chamber very -like an opera-box in appearance, inasmuch as there was a sort of -balcony on one side of it. Silken draperies prevented him from seeing -into what this balcony projected, but from below it there came the -subdued murmur of voices.</p> - -<p>"We are here," said Beatrice, "to view Lorelie's tragedy. It is to be -acted to-night, and in this little place you and I will be able to -witness the play unseen either by actors or audience."</p> - -<p>Stepping forward she cautiously put the curtains aside, an action which -disclosed the fact that they were standing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> on an elevated balcony that -projected into, and looked down upon, a grand Gothic hall, brilliantly -illuminated with electric light.</p> - -<p>Under the manipulation of carpenters and upholsterers the place had -assumed a somewhat theatre-like aspect. The southern end of the hall -was appropriated to the stage, which for the time being was hidden -from view by the folds of a heavy curtain. The pavement of the body of -the hall was covered with velvet carpeting. Fauteuils, lounges, seats -of every description, were disposed here and there: and these were -now becoming occupied by a number of fashionably-dressed ladies and -gentlemen, the time fixed for the beginning of the performance being -close at hand.</p> - -<p>"I daresay," said Beatrice, "you are wondering whether it is reasonable -on the part of Lorelie and myself to stop your voyage and to summon you -here merely to witness a play? The sequel will show. It is something -more than a play that you are asked to witness: it is an experiment. If -Lorelie were to choose a motto for her drama it would be the words of -Hamlet:—</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i6">"'The play's the thing</div> -<div>Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king.'"</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>"I am altogether in the dark," said her companion, lugubriously.</p> - -<p>"Be patient, Cousin Idris, and you shall have light anon."</p> - -<p>"Cousin Idris again! Come, if we really <i>are</i> cousins, I shall exercise -a cousin's privilege."</p> - -<p>So saying he stole his arm around her, and turned her pretty face -upward to his own. And Beatrice, unable to escape, submitted her lips -to his, laughing, yet feeling more disposed to cry, knowing full well -that there was another whom he would much rather have kissed.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span></p> - -<p>She broke from his arms and essayed to hide her confusion in the study -of a playbill printed on white satin. Of the <i>dramatis personæ</i>, four -names only were familiar to Idris.</p> - -<table summary="playbill"> - <tr> - <td class="left"><i>Rosamond</i> (Queen of the Lombards) </td> - <td><span class="smcap">Lady Walden</span>.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><i>Alboin</i> (King of the Lombards)</td> - <td><span class="smcap">Lord Walden</span>.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><i>Cunimund</i> (King of the Gepidæ)</td> - <td><span class="smcap">Dr. G. Rothwell</span>.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><i>Paulinus</i> (a bishop)</td> - <td><span class="smcap">The Earl of Ormsby</span>.</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<p>"The earl among the actors?" cried Idris in surprise.</p> - -<p>"The play, as an experiment, would be a failure without him," returned -Beatrice, oracularly. "To persuade him to take part in it was a matter -requiring very delicate handling on the part of Lorelie and myself. But -we have gained our end, you see."</p> - -<p>At this juncture there arose the twanging of violin-strings, the -puffing of wind instruments, and other sounds preliminary to orchestral -music. Then in a moment more the overture had begun.</p> - -<p>Idris, having drawn a velvet lounge to a point convenient for obtaining -a clearer view of the stage, seated Beatrice beside himself. They were -almost screened from sight by the arrangement of the silken curtains, -and by a profusion of flowers and fernery that decorated the exterior -ledge of the balcony.</p> - -<p>The overture was a really brilliant piece, but Beatrice appeared to -give little heed to it.</p> - -<p>"There was once," she murmured, in a dreamy voice, "there was once a -son, who at the age of seven years promised his mother on oath that -when he became a man he would do his utmost to clear his father's name -from a false charge. The son attained manhood; the opportunity came -for proving his father's innocence, and what did the son do? Nothing! -Absolutely nothing!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Would you have me darken Lorelie's name?" asked Idris, with a slight -touch of anger in his voice.</p> - -<p>But without heeding this interruption Beatrice went on:—</p> - -<p>"And therefore, as you have failed in your duty, Lorelie herself will -perform the act of justice to the dead. At this very hour two leading -newspapers—the one in Paris, the other in London—are setting up -the type of an article entitled 'The story of an almost forgotten -tragedy,' an article that will bear the signature of Lorelie Rochefort. -To-morrow morning the world will learn that Eric Marville was innocent -of the crime laid to his charge. And to-night, here, in this very -hall, Lorelie hopes to prove who Eric Marville really was: and her -experiment, if it terminate as she expects, will depress her fortune in -just the same proportion as it will raise yours.</p> - -<p>"And this she does by way of making atonement to you for her guilty -silence in the matter of Eric Marville's innocence. That silence was -the only fault in a life otherwise noble and good; how good no one -knows so well as myself. But see! the play is beginning."</p> - -<p>As Beatrice spoke, the music of the orchestra stopped with a sudden -crash. The electric light was switched off, leaving the body of the -hall in semi-darkness. The buzz of conversation ceased, and amid a -death-like silence the curtain rose on the opening act of the tragedy -of <i>The Fatal Skull</i>.</p> - -<p>The first scene of this drama was styled on the playbill, "An -audience-chamber in the palace of Cunimund."</p> - -<p>Clad in barbaric splendour, and seated upon a canopied throne, was the -royal Cunimund, in the person of Godfrey Rothwell. On each side of him -stood armed warriors and venerable counsellors, among the latter being -the earl himself in his character of Bishop Paulinus, a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span> <i>rôle</i> for -which his grave and dignified bearing seemed naturally adapted.</p> - -<p>Idris gazed upon the earl with considerable interest, beholding him -for the first time. This was the man whom Lorelie—oddly enough now it -seemed—had identified with his own father! She had been compelled to -admit herself in error, but was there truth in her other theory that -the earl was the author of the deed done in Ormfell? He turned from the -contemplation of this problem to listen to the words of the play.</p> - -<p>The opening speech of King Cunimund, addressed to his followers, showed -that he had assembled them for the purpose of giving audience to a -herald from the Lombard king, Alboin. The messenger being admitted, -demanded, on behalf of his royal master, the hand of Cunimund's -daughter, the fair princess Rosamond. From the herald's address Alboin -appeared to be a somewhat savage wooer, inasmuch as he was encamped -with an army upon the frontier, prepared, in the event of refusal, to -ravage the Gepid kingdom with fire and sword.</p> - -<p>"It is for Rosamond herself to decide the question," was the just -arbitrament of Cunimund, when the herald had finished his oration.</p> - -<p>So a messenger was despatched off the stage to bring in the princess. -Then, from the right wing, to the sound of music soft and sweet, -Lorelie entered in the character of Rosamond, the limelight playing -with enchanting effect over the curves of her graceful figure and over -the silken sheen of her dress. In Idris' eyes she had never looked more -lovely, her natural beauty being enhanced by the attractions of art. -And Beatrice, watching his face, sighed, for she knew herself to be -forgotten.</p> - -<p>Idris had hoped to receive a glance from Lorelie on her entrance, but -in this he was disappointed: her whole soul was evidently absorbed in -the part she was playing.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span></p> - -<p>With a half-smile upon her lip Rosamond listened while her father -Cunimund briefly explained the purpose for which she had been summoned. -Then, standing erect with girlish grace Rosamond pleaded, in sweet and -maidenly language, not to be given up to the will of a king well known -for his savage character. There was something so pathetic and touching -in her appeal as she stood alone facing the rough warriors, that tears -rose to the eyes of many ladies in the audience. It seemed not to be -acting, but nature itself.</p> - -<p>Tumultuous shouts from the Gepid warriors applauded Rosamond's -decision, and the curtain descended upon an exciting tableau—the -running to and fro of men, the buckling on of armour, and the giving of -orders for the coming fray.</p> - -<p>On turning to ascertain Idris' opinion of the first act Beatrice found -him with a look of perplexity on his face.</p> - -<p>"The earl! The earl!" he murmured. "Am I dreaming, or have I seen him -before? His attitude in raising his hand to his brow recalls a gesture -on the part of some one I have known in far-off times. In his voice, -too, there is something familiar: it is like the echo of one heard in -my childhood."</p> - -<p>Beatrice gave a faint cry of surprise.</p> - -<p>"Lorelie was right, then, in her conjecture," she said. "Yes: -Cousin Idris, you <i>have</i> seen the earl before under very different -circumstances from the present. Patience! you shall learn where ere -long."</p> - -<p>Quickly the curtain rose upon the second act.</p> - -<p>The scene represented the interior of a church by night. Lamps gleaming -from lofty columns shed a solemn light around.</p> - -<p>Rosamond was present with her maidens and a few armed attendants. -Their words showed that the Gepid<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> army had suffered defeat. Cunimund -himself was dead—not killed in fair and open fight, but treacherously -assassinated by the bishop Paulinus, who had gone over to the Lombard -side in the midst of the battle, carrying with him the head of the -fallen king, and securing by that gift the favour of Alboin. The -Lombards were now marching upon the Gepid capital, and Rosamond was -seeking to elude capture by taking sanctuary.</p> - -<p>Vain hope! From without came cries, the tramp of warriors, the clang -of arms. Torches gleamed through the windows of the church. Rosamond's -attendants tried to bar the door: their feeble efforts yielded to the -superior force of the foe, and the Lombards entered the church with -Alboin at their head, the <i>rôle</i> of that king being sustained by Ivar. -The sanctuary became the scene of an unequal combat. Soon the sword -glimmered in the grasp of the last defender, and the triumphant and -savage Alboin seized the lovely and shrinking form of Rosamond.</p> - -<p>Not till Alboin had sworn to accomplish his purpose, with or without -marriage, did Rosamond yield her reluctant assent to become his -wife. The ceremony took place on the spot, Paulinus himself, the -traitor-bishop, performing the marriage-rite.</p> - -<p>Rosamond, half-fainting, was led by her attendant maidens to the -altar, and holding Alboin's hand, was forced to utter the words of the -wedding-ritual amid the rude shouting of the Lombard soldiery, one of -whom carried the head of Cunimund affixed to the point of a pike.</p> - -<p>Language fails to convey an adequate conception of the wild horror -displayed by Rosamond at this juncture in being mated to a man she -loathed, and by an ecclesiastic whose hands were red with her father's -blood. In an agony of grief and rage she mingled the holy words<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span> of the -ritual with fierce "asides." She was no longer the sweet maiden of the -first act, but a woman thirsting for vengeance.</p> - -<p>It struck Idris that the situation of Rosamond offered an analogy to -that of Lorelie herself in being wedded to an uncongenial consort -and living in daily communion with a man guilty of bloodshed. Then -slowly the belief came over him that this emotion on her part was not -a piece of acting, but the real expression of her feelings. It was no -mock princess that he beheld, breathing an imaginary hatred against -stage-foes, but a wronged woman animated with a deadly purpose against -her husband and her father-in-law. What had happened to transform -Lorelie's sweet and gracious nature to this dark and vengeful mood?</p> - -<p>"As I live," muttered Idris, when the curtain had descended upon the -scene, "she is importing her own personal feelings into the piece. She -hates the earl and Ivar, and is laying some snare for them."</p> - -<p>"You have hit it," replied Beatrice. "This play is for their -humiliation and ruin."</p> - -<p>"How is it that her object did not reveal itself to them during the -rehearsal?"</p> - -<p>"Because she did not act then in the same spirit as now: and, moreover, -she will insert some words not in the printed edition of her play in -order to mark their effect upon the earl. There will be no need to ask -what words, or for what purpose uttered: you will know as soon as you -hear. See!" exclaimed Beatrice, in a voice trembling with suppressed -excitement, "the third act is beginning."</p> - -<p>As the curtain ascended again a murmur of admiration rose from the -audience at the beauty of the tableau revealed to view. The scene -represented the refectory of a palace, and was so arranged that the -actual walls of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span> Gothic hall in which the audience sat formed the -wings and rear of the stage scenery, thus producing an effect more -realistic than could have been attained by painted canvas. A spacious -and splendid arched casement facing the audience made a part of this -refectory; the scene had been purposely timed with regard to the moon's -course, and it was no mock planet, but the real silver orb of night -that shone through the panes of stained glass from a sky of darkest -blue. The moonlight without contrasted curiously with the glow cast by -the lamps pendent from the vaulted roof of the supposed banqueting hall.</p> - -<p>A feast was taking place, given by King Alboin to celebrate his victory -over Cunimund. Historically speaking, the memorable and fatal banquet -with which the name of Rosamond is associated, happened several years -after the defeat of the Gepid king, but for the sake of dramatic effect -Lorelie had represented it as the immediate consequence of that defeat.</p> - -<p>Robed in purple, and with a jewelled diadem upon his head, sat Alboin, -and beside him, and now his chief counsellor, the traitor-bishop -Paulinus, whose episcopal attire was stiff with brocade and gems. -Disposed along the board with picturesque effect were the Lombard -chiefs and warriors, all arrayed in gleaming mail.</p> - -<p>The royal table glittered with a profusion of plate. The shelves of a -carved oaken sideboard were filled with a variety of golden and silver -vessels. The stage twinkled with so many dazzling points of light that -it became hurtful to gaze too long upon it. All the Ravengar heirlooms -were being paraded in this banqueting-scene, probably to impress the -visitors with the extent of the Ravengar wealth.</p> - -<p>"Are those jewels, and is that plate real?" muttered Idris, examining -them through a lorgnette.</p> - -<p>"All genuine, and not stage-property. I was once<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span> promised," murmured -Beatrice in a dreamy manner, "I was once promised a moiety of that -wealth.—I wonder, Cousin Idris, whether you will keep your word: for -it is all yours, or soon will be."</p> - -<p>Idris did not catch the last part of her utterance, but he had heard -enough to understand whence came all this display.</p> - -<p>"The Viking's treasure!" he cried in wonderment. "But that -blue-gleaming cup that the earl is lifting to his lips!—that cannot be -a sapphire: it must be coloured glass."</p> - -<p>"It is a real gem, I assure you. Isn't it a lovely thing? There cannot -be its equal in the wide world. And think of it! Ivar was on the point -of selling it, and other rarities, but fortunately, Lorelie stopped him -in time. But I'll reserve that story."</p> - -<p>The walls of the supposed banqueting hall were hung with tapestry, -sufficient in length to drape both the wings and the background. -This arras, decorated with figures in needlework, was obviously very -ancient, apparently one of the Ravengar heirlooms employed to give an -air of antiquity to the refectory-scene.</p> - -<p>It was somewhat difficult to obtain a clear view of this tapestry owing -to the intervention of the banqueting-table and the picturesque figures -grouped around it; but, bringing his lorgnette to bear upon such parts -of it as were visible, Idris observed that one of its needlework -pictures was subscribed with the words:—"<span class="smcap">Ormus Hildam Nubit</span>."</p> - -<p>"Orm weds Hilda," he muttered. "By heaven! that is the tapestry that -once decorated the interior of the Viking's tomb!"</p> - -<p>"True," returned Beatrice. "But—we are losing the words of the play."</p> - -<p>This last was quite true. So occupied had Idris been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span> in contemplating -the scenic effects, that he had not yet caught a word of the act then -in progress.</p> - -<p>Fixing his attention upon the dialogue Idris noticed that Alboin (or -Ivar) was inviting his companions-in-arms to drink to their recent -victory. While speaking he lifted on high his own goblet, a goblet of -a very curious character, for it was fashioned from a human skull, -supposedly that of the fallen Cunimund. The upper portion of the -cranium had been sawn off, and being attached to the lower part by -silver hinges, formed the lid of the grim drinking-vessel.</p> - -<p>"Do you recognize the relic taken by you from Ormfell?" asked Beatrice.</p> - -<p>"That cup is not the 'Viking's' skull," returned Idris decisively, as -he surveyed it through his glasses. "Its colour is white: mine was a -yellowish-brown. Now, notice the lid; it is lifted and turned towards -us: it ought to contain a circular perforation, but there is none, you -see. Trust me, I know my relic too well to be deceived."</p> - -<p>"You are quite right, Cousin Idris: the cup now in Ivar's hands is -<i>not</i> the 'Viking's' skull; being merely the one used in the rehearsal. -It would have been a betraying of her purpose had Lorelie employed the -real relic, but it will make its appearance soon."</p> - -<p>She turned her attention to the dialogue again, and Idris did the same, -wondering what the end of it would be.</p> - -<p>Extending the skull-cup to a slave, Ivar-Alboin cried, in the words of -history:—</p> - -<p>"Fill this goblet to the brim: carry it to the queen, and bid her in my -name drink to the memory of her father."</p> - -<p>The attendant poured wine into the cup and carried it off the stage -for the purpose of presenting it to Queen Rosamond. And pre-informed -by Beatrice, Idris knew<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span> that the goblet carried out would not be the -same as that which would be brought in. Lorelie would enter with the -identical skull taken from Ormfell. Why should this be? He awaited the -sequel with breathless interest, an interest that would have been far -more intense had he known with what person Godfrey had connected this -same skull. But some things had been kept from the knowledge of Idris, -and this was one of them.</p> - -<p>The advent of Queen Rosamond was heralded by music of a singular -character. The softer and more melodious instrument ceased, and there -arose a threnody drawn entirely from violin-chords and from the -metallic wires of the harp—a threnody that was staccato, shivering, -weird. The faint whisperings which had been going on here and there -among the audience instantly ceased: every one sat spellbound, thrilled -with awe by that unearthly music, as if it were a prelude to the -entrance of Death himself.</p> - -<p>Idris recognized the air as the requiem that was never heard except at -the death of a Ravengar. That it should now be played seemed suggestive -of some coming tragedy. He learned from Beatrice that this requiem had -formed no part of the rehearsals: and, indeed, the wondering looks -interchanged among the amateurs on the stage showed that it came upon -them as a surprise. Idris was not slow to mark the perturbed air of the -earl-bishop. If it were Lorelie's object to unnerve him, she had to -some extent succeeded.</p> - -<p>Amid this eerie refrain Queen Rosamond slowly entered the banqueting -hall, carrying in her hands the dread cup, the fatal skull of her -father Cunimund. The eyes of every one, both on and off the stage, were -riveted upon her movements. She had exhibited splendid acting in the -two previous scenes; was she now about to surpass herself?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span></p> - -<p>She was robed in a vesture of violet satin, embroidered with gold, that -shimmered as she moved; and in her flowing raven hair there gleamed -an ornament that gave Idris a thrill of surprise, for he immediately -recognized it as the stiletto hair-pin that had wrought the fatal deed -in Ormfell.</p> - -<p>By aid of the lorgnette he surveyed the object she was carrying. Yes: -that golden-brown thing was indeed the 'Viking's skull,' set in silver, -and mounted as a cup—a cup in appearance only, for the cranium was -perfect and entire, and had not been fashioned into a lid.</p> - -<p>Rosamond had entered through an arched door in the wall on the -right-hand side of the stage. Ivar-Alboin's throne was on the extreme -left, and therefore to reach him it was necessary to traverse the -entire length of the stage.</p> - -<p>Slowly, very slowly, she advanced with silent and majestic tread, -holding aloft the fatal skull.</p> - -<p>To Idris, the moment was one of thrilling interest. He felt that the -crucial point of the experiment had come: the object for which Lorelie -had caused her play to be staged was now about to be disclosed.</p> - -<p>Not a word passed Lorelie's lips as she moved forward, the ghostly -<i>tremolo</i> music going on all the time. She looked neither to right nor -left: she had eyes for one person only, and that was the earl, and him -she regarded with the air of a triumphant accuser.</p> - -<p>And the earl, observant of her manner, and always suspicious of her -since that memorable night in the vault, dreading lest she should have -divined his purpose in taking her there, grew troubled. It began to -dawn upon him that Lorelie had an ulterior purpose in staging her play, -a purpose fraught with ill to himself. His eye rested on the skull she -was carrying: he noted the difference, yet no inkling of her real aim -entered his mind.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> He stared at her, trying to read her thoughts: she -returned his gaze: their looks became a silent duel.</p> - -<p>At last she reached the place where Alboin sat. The shivering music -came to an end, enabling her voice to be heard.</p> - -<p>"Ere I comply with my lord-king's request," she said, addressing Ivar, -and using the words of the play, "let me learn from whose skull I -drink."</p> - -<p>She set the relic upon the table, keeping one hand over the cranium. -Idris felt that she did this for the purpose of hiding the fatal -perforation. But though her words were addressed to Ivar, she did not -for one moment remove her eyes from the earl's face.</p> - -<p>"It is the skull of thy late sire, the royal Cunimund."</p> - -<p>"Not so, husband mine," she cried, with a sudden change of voice that -startled everybody present, actors and spectators alike, "not so! Let -us leave acting and be real.—Tell me, my lord of Ravenhall," she said, -bending over the table and addressing the earl in a thrilling sibilant -whisper that penetrated to every part of the hall, "<i>tell me, whose -skull is this?</i>"</p> - -<p>She withdrew her hand from the skull and pointed to the orifice in the -cranium.</p> - -<p>A strange gasp broke from the earl. He cast one glance of fear at -Lorelie, and then sat with parted lips and dilated eyes staring at -the thing before him. Lorelie's significant manner, his own guilty -conscience, the circular perforation in the occiput, were sufficient -to tell him whose skull it was. In one swift awful moment he realized -that his secret was known to the woman whom he had most reason to -fear, and he intuitively divined that she was about to make it known -to all present. And then? He gasped for breath; his throat seemed to -be compressed: he twitched at it with his fingers as if to loosen some -tightly-drawn noose.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span></p> - -<p>He knew now why she had shewn such persistency in urging him to take -part in the play. "Only a minor part, a few words to utter, nothing -more," had been her plea. He knew now why she had flattered, insisted, -threatened: her motive was to surprise and confuse him: to entrap him -into a confession by suddenly producing the skull before his eyes.</p> - -<p>And she had nearly succeeded. Sudden amazement had almost wrung the -secret from him. He compressed his lips tightly: he must not speak, -lest by some incautious word he should betray himself. Silence! -Silence! there lay his safety. With such cunning had he overlaid all -traces of the crime that it could not be proved except by his own -confession.</p> - -<p>The audience, after a glance at the play-book, looked at each other -in bewilderment, wondering why the viscountess had departed from the -written words of her drama. Instead of playing as finely as heretofore, -she had actually committed the gross blunder of addressing the Bishop -Paulinus as, "My lord of Ravenhall!"</p> - -<p>Receiving no answer to her question, for the earl sat silent and -motionless, Lorelie rested her hand upon the table, lightly shook the -sleeve of her silken dress, and the next moment the runic altar-ring -was sparkling on her wrist.</p> - -<p>"By the sacred ring of Odin, stolen by you from Edith Breakspear, I -adjure you, speak! Whose skull is this?"</p> - -<p>Something like a groan issued from the earl's lips. So, his theft of -the ring was likewise known to this terrible woman!—a theft committed -so long ago that it had almost faded from his memory: and, lo! here the -deed was, starting up to confront him after a lapse of twenty-three years!</p> - -<div class="center"><a name="i336.jpg" id="i336.jpg"></a><img src="images/i336.jpg" alt="Illustration" /></div> - -<p>For a moment he forgot his present position: the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span> stage, the lights, -the audience, all were gone. He found himself again in that quiet -twilight chamber at Quilaix; again he saw the sad eyes, the pale -face of the woman from whom he had taken the ring: again her solemn -utterance sounded in his ears:—"If it should bring upon you the curse -which it has brought upon me and mine, you will live to rue this day."</p> - -<p>The voice of Lorelie speaking again, roused him from his reverie.</p> - -<p>"By this hoarded treasure, gained at the price of blood, I adjure you, -speak! Whose skull is this?"</p> - -<p>Mechanically his eyes wandered over the festal-board with its array -of plate and jewels. The splendid parade of wealth made his present -position only the more ghastly. Like a spectre from the tomb Nemesis -arose to mock him amid the very riches which his guilt had purchased.</p> - -<p>A silence had fallen both upon actors and audience. They had begun -to catch a glimpse of the true meaning of this strange tableau. As -motionless as statues they sat: they scarcely breathed: it would have -required an earthquake or the conflagration of the hall itself to have -moved them.</p> - -<p>In silent despair the earl looked around upon the array of still faces -set with earnest attention upon him, and then he turned again to the -skull. All lifeless as it was, it was victor over him to-day. It seemed -to be grinning at him in conscious mockery. Powerless itself to speak -it had found a mouthpiece, an avenger, in the person of Lorelie.</p> - -<p>Why had he allowed this woman to leave the secret vault, where her life -had been in his hands? He might have known that she would never rest -till she had avenged herself upon him.</p> - -<p>He looked into the depth of her dark blue eyes—eyes <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span>that were -steeled to pity. "Like for like," they seemed to say: she would show -him the same mercy that he would have shown her, though in truth, -Lorelie thought not of herself, but of the dead Eric Marville, so -cruelly wronged both by her father and herself: Eric Marville, who had -generously refrained from claiming the peerage justly his in order that -the present earl might enjoy it. And he had received his death-stroke -from the hand of the very man whom he had benefited! Was this a case -for pity!</p> - -<p>"By yon tapestry, silent witness of the deed, I adjure you, speak! -Whose skull is this?"</p> - -<p>A portion of the arras within view of the earl was clutched from behind -by an unseen hand, and was suddenly rent in twain from top to bottom -with a sharp ripping sound: then came the fall of some dull body, -(though nothing was seen by the audience), followed by a faint soughing -like an expiring breath.</p> - -<p>The earl shook convulsively. The very sounds that had accompanied the -fall of his victim in Ormfell!</p> - -<p>With slow motion Lorelie raised her hand to her head. The earl followed -her action with his eyes, wondering what new terror was in store -for him. Drawing the broken stiletto pin from her hair she placed -the fragment of the blade within the orifice of the skull, where it -remained, the jewelled hilt projecting above, and glittering with weird -effect.</p> - -<p>"By the very stiletto that let out the life of your victim, I adjure -you, speak! Whose skull is this?"</p> - -<p>She was determined to have her answer, and that openly.</p> - -<p>In darkness and secrecy the deed had been wrought: amid brilliant light -and before a crowd of hearers the truth should be proclaimed. Like some -struggling victim in the torture-chamber, who, doggedly <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span>speechless, is -forced onward to the rack that will soon wring the confession from his -reluctant lips, so the earl, in dumb agony, felt himself drawn onward -to tell the dread secret of his life.</p> - -<p>The jewelled hilt of the stiletto protruding from the skull exercized -a fascination over him: he could not take his gaze from it: like a -gleaming eye it seemed to be commanding him to admit his guilt.</p> - -<p>Idris, attentive to every variation in the face of the earl, saw that -he was sinking into a cataleptic state. Unable to obtain the required -confession in any other way Lorelie had resorted to her knowledge of -hypnotism, and had found the earl powerless to resist her mesmeric -influence.</p> - -<p>"Speak! Whose skull is this?" she asked once more.</p> - -<p>"<i>My brother's.</i>"</p> - -<p>The earl spoke like an automaton, in a tone, cold, mechanical, -passionless—a tone he maintained throughout the whole of his -subsequent answering.</p> - -<p>A wave of surprise passed over the audience. Till that moment it had -not been known that Urien Ravengar, the preceding earl, had had more -than one son.</p> - -<p>"When did your brother die?"</p> - -<p>"Twenty-one years ago."</p> - -<p>"In what place did he die?"</p> - -<p>"In the interior of Ormfell."</p> - -<p>"How came he to die?"</p> - -<p>"<i>I killed him!</i>"</p> - -<p>At this answer a thrill pervaded the assembly. Half-articulate screams -arose from the ladies. From fair jewelled hands play-bills and books of -the words slid to the floor. There they lay unheeded, being no longer -required. The sham-tragedy was over: a new and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span>unrehearsed drama of -real life was taking place before their eyes, and the audience bent -forward to watch and to listen.</p> - -<p>Ivar, with a troubled look, rose at this point and made an attempt to -stay Lorelie's action.</p> - -<p>"Let down the curtain," he cried to an attendant in the wings. "What -devil's work is this?" he continued, turning fiercely upon his wife. -"Let it cease! Restore my father to his normal state. You have -mesmerized him, and, mistress of his mind, you are making him say -whatever you wish. Do you think that any one here believes him?"</p> - -<p>One word from her, one imperious gesture, one flash of her eyes, was -sufficient to quell Ivar's opposition.</p> - -<p>"<i>Malvazia!</i>" she whispered, pointing to the sapphire cup.</p> - -<p>The viscount shrank back, knowing that the hour of his fall and -humiliation was at hand.</p> - -<p>"Let none intervene," said Lorelie, addressing her audience with quiet -dignity.</p> - -<p>And during the remainder of the scene there was neither movement nor -sound on the part of the spectators, not even from Idris and Ivar, the -two persons most interested in the dialogue.</p> - -<p>In cold measured tones Lorelie proceeded with her merciless catechism.</p> - -<p>"Was he a younger brother?"</p> - -<p>"My senior by three years."</p> - -<p>"Why was he not acknowledged by your father, the late earl?"</p> - -<p>"He was the son of a secret marriage—a marriage with a village maiden -named Agnes Marville."</p> - -<p>"Where can the record of this marriage be found?"</p> - -<p>"In the parish church of Oakhurst in Kent."</p> - -<p>"Your father did not tell this Agnes that he was a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span> peer of the realm: -and, as soon as a son was born, he deserted her: nay, more, while she -was still living he made a second marriage, which, therefore, renders -your own birth illegitimate. Is not this so?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"When did the son of this Agnes discover that he was the rightful heir -of Ravenhall?"</p> - -<p>"On attaining manhood."</p> - -<p>"What course did he take?"</p> - -<p>"He wrote a letter to my father to the effect that as that father had -repudiated him in infancy he on his part would accept the repudiation."</p> - -<p>"And so, waiving his just rights, he went to live in Brittany under the -name of Eric Marville. Why did you, too, leave England about the same -time?"</p> - -<p>"The letter written by Eric fell into my hands and caused a quarrel -between my father and myself."</p> - -<p>"Did you, when abroad, ever see your half-brother?"</p> - -<p>"During his trial I stood among the spectators."</p> - -<p>"Did you not make yourself known to him?"</p> - -<p>"No, for I hated him."</p> - -<p>"Did you show your hatred in any way?"</p> - -<p>"I secretly promised his prosecuting counsel a large sum if he should -secure a conviction."</p> - -<p>"How long did you remain abroad?"</p> - -<p>"Ten years."</p> - -<p>"And by a strange coincidence on the very night of your return to -Ravenhall your brother's yacht went down in Ormsby Race. You believed -he had gone down with it, till——?"</p> - -<p>"Till he surprised me in Ormfell as I was in the act of removing the -treasure."</p> - -<p>"Let us hear what took place."</p> - -<p>"We quarrelled. He had discovered the part I had played in the trial at -Nantes, and also that it was I who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span> had taken the runic ring from his -wife. He threatened to assert his claim to the earldom, and so I struck -him down with a stiletto hair-pin, the only weapon I had upon me at the -time."</p> - -<p>"How did you dispose of the body?"</p> - -<p>"I left it, covered with quicklime, in Ormfell, so that, if ever -discovered, it might be taken for the remains of some ancient warrior."</p> - -<p>"Did your brother have any children?"</p> - -<p>"One son."</p> - -<p>"Who is, of course, the rightful earl of Ormsby. By what name is this -son known?"</p> - -<p>"Idris Breakspear."</p> - -<p>Lorelie put no more questions. She had discovered what she wished. -Light had been cast on dark places and all was clear. She had made her -atonement to Idris: and, with a significant glance at the balcony where -he sat, she waved her hand, and at that signal the curtain descended.</p> - -<p>Ere the amazed audience had time to exchange remarks the earl's voice -was again heard, proceeding from the other side of the curtain.</p> - -<p>"What do you say, Ivar?" he cried, in wild staccato utterances. "I -have accused myself ... of murder?... That my title ... and yours -... are invalid? It is false!... Gentlemen, I am not responsible ... -for my utterances.... This woman hates me.... She is a hypnotizer -... has taken my mind captive ... made me say ... whatever suits her -purpose.... Pay no heed to anything I have said ... in this state ... -of——"</p> - -<p>His utterance was checked by a fit of coughing, followed by a strange -gasp, and then all was still.</p> - -<p>The next moment one of the amateur actors appeared<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span> at the side of the -stage-curtain and beckoned to Godfrey, who, his part having ceased with -the first act, had taken his place amongst the audience. The surgeon -passed behind the curtain, then quickly reappeared.</p> - -<p>"Get the company away as quickly as can be managed," he whispered to -the steward of Ravenhall, "the earl is dead!"</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XX</span> <span class="smaller">FINALE</span></h2> - -<p>"The earl dead!" murmured Beatrice in a tone of awe. "Death! <i>That</i> was -no part of Lorelie's design." And, after a brief pause, she added, "It -is the judgment of God."</p> - -<p>Awe-struck by the terrible ending of the play the whispering guests -began a hurried departure. Idris, however, at Godfrey's suggestion, -remained behind.</p> - -<p>The body of Olave Ravengar, <i>un</i>-lawful Earl of Ormsby, was carried to -the chamber usually assigned to the lying-in-state of the dead lords of -Ravenhall.</p> - -<p>Having attended to this duty Ivar, passing through the entrance-hall, -suddenly caught sight of Idris in conversation with Godfrey.</p> - -<p>For a moment he stared superciliously at his rival.</p> - -<p>"Impostor!" he muttered, with affected indignation. "John! Roger!" he -continued, addressing two tall footmen who stood near, "put this fellow -outside the park gates."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps," said Godfrey, quietly, "as your title is at present in -question, it will be well to wait till it be legally ascertained -whether you have the right to give orders here."</p> - -<p>Ivar scowled, first at the speaker, then at the throng of mute and -immovable servants, who showed little disposition to acknowledge his -authority.</p> - -<p>His mind reverted to Lorelie, the author of this, his downfall: had -she chosen to keep his secret he might have retained his usurped rank. -She should suffer for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span> this: she at least was his, if Ravenhall were -not, and he would exercise his authority by applying a horsewhip to -her shoulders. It would be a pleasure to hear her screams! Yes: he -would do it, though his father were lying dead in the house. There was -an additional pleasure in the thought that by subjecting Lorelie to -indignity and humiliation he would be mortifying Idris.</p> - -<p>"Where is Lady Walden?" he demanded, turning upon one of the servants. -"I must," he continued, with an ugly smile at Idris, "I must have a -word with her."</p> - -<p>"Your wife—she repudiates the title of Lady Walden—is now at Wave -Crest," replied Godfrey. "I am desired by her to state that you will -never see her again."</p> - -<p>"Indeed?" sneered Ivar, haughtily. "She shall return. A wife's place is -by her husband's side."</p> - -<p>"That sentiment comes with an ill grace from an adulterer who once -offered his wife poison to drink," responded Godfrey.</p> - -<p>Ivar grew white to the very lips.</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?" he muttered. "O, I see! Some wild accusation -of Lorelie's. Honourable gentlemen, ye are!" he continued, with an -assumption of dignity that sat somewhat awkwardly upon him. "Honourable -gentlemen, to corrupt a wife, and use her as a tool against her -husband! This stage-play of to-night, this hypnotizing of my father's -mind, this forcing him to utter whatever you wish, has been very finely -arranged on the part of you all. It is a plot to deprive me of my -rights. You shall hear what my solicitor has to say on the matter. It -is one thing to claim an estate, and another to make good the claim."</p> - -<p>"Quite so," replied Godfrey, who acted as spokesman for Idris, since -the latter was too much bewildered by the novelty and strangeness of -his position to say <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span>anything: "quite so. And therefore we have invited -your solicitor to an interview with us to-morrow morning at ten o'clock -in the library, when I trust you will be present, for we shall offer -you abundant proofs of our position."</p> - -<p>On the following morning Ivar repaired to the library, where he found -the late earl's solicitor in company with Idris and Godfrey.</p> - -<p>Ivar was well aware that Idris was the rightful heir of Ravenhall. -His only hope was that the other might find it impossible to prove -the legitimacy of his title. But in this he was quickly doomed to -disappointment.</p> - -<p>With a face that grew darker and darker he listened to the evidence -that had been accumulated by the joint labours of Lorelie and Beatrice. -The prior and secret marriage of the old earl, Urien Ravengar, with -the village maiden, Agnes Marville: the birth of a child named Eric, -together with Idris' legitimate filiation to the latter, were all -clearly set forth.</p> - -<p>The lawyer was at first disposed to be sceptical, but became fully -convinced in the end.</p> - -<p>"I fear it is of no use to dispute the evidence," he whispered to Ivar. -"Contest the claim and you're sure to lose. Better to appeal to the -generosity of your newfound cousin and heir, and try to come to some -monetary arrangement with him."</p> - -<p>Ivar sat for a few minutes in moody silence. Then, looking up and -scowling at Idris, he muttered:—</p> - -<p>"If I've got to give up Ravenhall, I may as well go at once. I won't be -beholden to that fellow for a roof."</p> - -<p>"Surely you will remain till your father's funeral shall have taken -place?" said Idris.</p> - -<p>"Damn the funeral!" muttered the late viscount, savagely. "What good -shall I do myself by waiting for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span> it? Will it bring the governor -back to life? I'll not stay here to be pitied, and jeered at, as -the discoroneted viscount. You killed my father by your wiles. You -yourselves can now bury him."</p> - -<p>And with these words he passed through the doorway and was gone: and -even the coroner's summons failed to secure his attendance at the -inquest held upon the body of the earl. Lorelie was present, and, after -giving her evidence, quietly withdrew, accompanied by Beatrice.</p> - -<p>But when Idris, a few hours later, called at Wave Crest, he was met on -the threshold by Beatrice with the tidings that Lorelie had left Ormsby.</p> - -<p>"Where has she gone?"</p> - -<p>"Indeed I do not know," replied Beatrice, who looked the picture of -grief. "She would not tell me her destination or plans. I did my best -to persuade her to stay, but in vain."</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * *</p> - -<p>A year after Lorelie's disappearance there occurred in a society-paper -a paragraph relative to an event which, however melancholy in itself, -could scarcely be viewed by Idris with any other feeling than that of -satisfaction. This event was the death of Ivar, who was said to have -been carried off by fever in an obscure lodging in London. Inquiries -on the part of Idris proved that the story was true: and he found, -moreover, that Ivar, in his last hours, had been nursed by a lady whose -description answered to that of Lorelie.</p> - -<p>The forgiving and generous disposition evinced by this act did but -endear her the more to Idris.</p> - -<p>But where was she? He was certain that she loved him. Why then did she -continue to hide herself?</p> - -<p>All attempts on his part to trace her failed completely:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span> and a -haunting fear seized him that she had retired for life to the seclusion -of a French convent.</p> - -<p>Two years went by, and Idris had almost given up the hope of ever -seeing her again, when, passing one afternoon by the Church of St. -Oswald, he heard the sound of its organ.</p> - -<p>Attracted, partly by the music, partly by the thought that it was in -this church that he had first set eyes upon Lorelie, he entered the -Ravengar Chantry, and sat down to listen.</p> - -<p>Something in the style of the music caused a strange suspicion to -steal over him. He rose, walked quietly forward, and gazed up at the -organ-loft.</p> - -<p>The musician was Lorelie!</p> - -<p>Screening himself from view he waited till she had finished her -playing: waited till she had dismissed her attendant-boy, and then -quietly intercepted her as she was passing through the Ravengar Chantry.</p> - -<p>She started, and seemed almost dismayed at seeing him.</p> - -<p>"I—I did not know you were at Ormsby," she murmured. "I thought you -were on the Continent."</p> - -<p>"Lorelie, where have you been so long?"</p> - -<p>"I have been living in the south of France for the past two years. A -few days ago a longing came upon me to see Ormsby once more, and——"</p> - -<p>She ceased speaking, and her eyes drooped as Idris gently held her by -the wrists.</p> - -<p>"And now that you <i>are</i> here," he said, "do you think that I shall ever -let you go again? Lorelie, you know how much I love you. Why, then, -have you avoided me? But for you I should not now possess a coronet: is -it not fair that you should share it?"</p> - -<p>"No: Idris, this must not be," she murmured, gently essaying to free -herself. "There is one who loves you better than I—one more deserving -of your love."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span></p> - -<p>"And who is that?"</p> - -<p>"Beatrice."</p> - -<p>"And is it on her account that you have absented yourself so long, -willing to sacrifice your own happiness to hers? Lorelie, you are too -generous. Beatrice is indeed a charming and pretty maiden, and had I -never seen you I might perhaps have loved her. I had the conceit that -she might be growing fond of me, so I took steps to cure her of the -fancy."</p> - -<p>"How?" asked Lorelie, with wondering eyes.</p> - -<p>"By showing her that there are much finer fellows than myself in -existence. With Godfrey's consent I took her to London. At Ormsby I was -a hero in her eyes, for there were few here with whom she might measure -me: but in London it was different. 'Pretty Miss Ravengar' became quite -an attraction in Society. Eligible young men surrounded her, eager for -a glance and a smile: and—well—to make my story short, next spring -we shall have to address our little Trixie as Lady St. Cyril. She will -have half the Viking's treasure as her dowry. And so, you see, my sweet -countess——"</p> - -<p>Their lips drew near and met in one long, clinging kiss.</p> - -<p>In the circle of Idris' arms Lorelie found a refuge from all her -past troubles. Fair and clear before her the future lay like a -sunny sparkling lake with one barque gliding over it: Idris was the -steersman, and she had nothing to do but to lie back on silken pillows, -still and happy, and float wherever he chose to direct.</p> - -<p class="center space-above">THE END</p> - -<hr /> - -<h2>ADVERTISEMENTS</h2> - -<div class="center"><img src="images/ad1.jpg" alt="ad 1" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="center"><img src="images/ad2.jpg" alt="ad 2" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="center"><img src="images/ad3.jpg" alt="ad 3" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="center"><img src="images/ad4.jpg" alt="ad 4" /></div> - -<hr /> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Viking's Skull, by John R. 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