John R. Carling

“ 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. ”

“ 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." ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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 [Pg 95] 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! ”

“ 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." ”

“ 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." ”

“ 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." ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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! ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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." ”

“ 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. ”