"We shall try, however. Come along!"

The house of the sorceress was but a short distance from that of Sir Norman's plague-stricken lady-love's; and shod with a sort of seven-league boots, they soon reached it. Like the other, it was all dark and deserted.

"This is the home," said Ormiston, looking at it doubtfully, "but where is La Masque?"

"Here!" said a silvery voice at his elbow; and turning round, they saw a tall, slender figure, cloaked, hooded, and masked. "Surely, you two do not want me again to-night?"

Both gentlemen doffed their plumed hats, and simultaneously bowed.

"Fortune favors us," said Sir Norman. "Yes, madam, it is even so; once again to-night we would tax your skill."

"Well, what do you wish to know?"

"Madam, we are in the street."

"Sir, I'm aware of that. Pray proceed."

"Will you not have the goodness to permit us to enter?" said Sir Norman, inclined to feel offended. "How can you tell us what we wish to know, here?"

"That is my secret," said the sweet voice. "Probably Sir Norman Kingsley wishes to know something of the fair lady I showed him some time ago?"

"Madam, you've guessed it. It is for that purpose I have sought you now."

"Then you have seen her already?"

"I have."

"And love her?"

"With all my heart!"

"A rapid flame," said the musical voice, in a tone that had just a thought of sarcasm; "for one of whose very existence you did not dream two hours ago."

"Madame La Masque," said Norman, flushed sad haughty, "love is not a question of time."

"Sir Norman Kingsley," said the lady, somewhat sadly, "I am aware of that. Tell me what you wish to know, and if it be in my power, you shall know it."

"A thousand thanks! Tell me, then, is she whom I seek living or dead?"

"She is alive."

"She has the plague?" said Sir Norman.

"I know it."

"Will she recover?"

"She will."

"Where is she now?"

La Masque hesitated and seemed uncertain whether or not to reply, Sir Norman pa.s.sionately broke in:

"Tell me, madam, for I must know!"

"Then you shall; but, remember, if you get into danger, you must not blame me."

"Blame you! No, I think I would hardly do that. Where am I to seek for her?"

"Two miles from London beyond Newgate," said the mask. "There stand the ruins of what was long ago a hunting-lodge, now a crumbling skeleton, roofless and windowless, and said, by rumor, to be haunted. Perhaps you have seen or heard of it?"

"I have seen it a hundred times," broke in Sir Norman. "Surely, you do not mean to say she is there?"

"Go there, and you will see. Go there to-night, and lose no time--that is, supposing you can procure a license."

"I have one already. I have a pa.s.s from the Lord Mayor to come and go from the city when I please."

"Good! Then you'll go to-night."

"I will go. I might as well do that as anything else, I suppose; but it is quite impossible," said Sir Norman, firmly, not to say obstinately, "that she can be there."

"Very well you'll see. You had better go on horseback, if you desire to be back in time to witness the illumination."

"I don't particularly desire to see the illumination, as I know of; but I will ride, nevertheless. What am I to do when I get there?"

"You will enter the ruins, and go on till you discover a spiral staircase leading to what was once the vaults. The flags of these vaults are loose from age, and if you should desire to remove any of them, you will probably not find it an impossibility."

"Why should I desire to remove them?" asked Sir Norman, who felt dubious, and disappointed, and inclined to be dogmatical.

"Why, you may see a glimmering of light--hear strange noises; and if you remove the stones, may possibly see strange sights. As I told you before, it is rumored to be haunted, which is true enough, though not in the way they suspect; and so the fools and the common herd stay away."

"And if I am discovered peeping like a rascally valet, what will be the consequences?"

"Very unpleasant ones to you; but you need not be discovered if you take care. Ah! Look there!"

She pointed to the river, and both her companions looked. A barge gayly painted and gilded, with a light in prow and stern, came gliding up among less pretentious craft, and stopped at the foot of a flight of stairs leading to the bridge. It contained four persons--the oarsman, two cavaliers sitting in the stern, and a lad in the rich livery of a court-page in the act of springing out. Nothing very wonderful in all this; and Sir Norman and Ormiston looked at her for an explanation.

"Do you know those two gentlemen?" she asked.

"Certainly," replied Sir Norman, promptly; "one is the Duke of York, the other the Earl of Rochester."

"And that page, to which of them does he belong?"

"The page!" said Sir Norman, with a stare, as he leaned forward to look; "pray, madam, what has the page to do with it?"

"Look and see!"

The two peers has ascended the stairs, and were already on the bridge.