"Could ever any mortal conceive of such a scene," observed the count to himself; "look at that little picture of ugliness; how he hops about like a dropsical bull-frog.Some of those women are very pretty, too, and outshine more than one court-beauty that I have seen.Upon my word, it is the most extraordinary spectacle I ever heard of.I wonder what they've got that's so attractive down there?"At the same moment, a loud voice within the circle abruptly exclaimed"She revives, she revives! Back, back, and give her air!"Instantly, the throng swayed and fell back; and the dwarf, with a sort of yell (whether of rage or relief, nobody knew), swept them from side to side with a wave of his long arms, and cleared a wide vacancy for his own especial benefit.The action gave the count an opportunity of gratifying his curiosity.The object of attraction was now plainly visible.Sir Norman's surmises had been correct.The green table of the parliament-house of the midnight court had been converted, by the aid of cushions and pillows, into an extempore couch.; and half-buried in their downy depths lay Miranda, the queen.The sweeping robe of royal purple, trimmed with ermine, the circlets of jewels on arms, bosom, and head, she still wore, and the beautiful face was white: than fallen snow.Yet she was not dead, as Sir Norman had dreaded; for the dark eyes were open, and were fixed with an unutterable depth of melancholy on vacancy.Her arms lay helplessly by her side, and someone, the court physician probably, was bending over her and feeling her pulse.
As the count's eyes fell upon her, he started back, and grasped Sir Norman's arm with consternation.
"Good heavens, Kingsley!" he cried; "it is Leoline, herself!"In his excitement he had spoken so loud, that in the momentary silence that followed the physician's direction, his voice had rung through the room, and drew every eye upon them.
"We are seen, we are seen!" shouted Hubert, and as he spoke, a terrible cry idled the room.In an instant every sword leaped from its scabbard, and the shriek of the startled women rang appallingly out on the air.Sir Norman drew his sword, too; but the count, with his eyes yet fixed on Miranda, still held him by the arm, and excitedly exclaimed"Tell me, tell me, is it Leoline?""Leoline! No - how could it be Leoline? They look alike, that's all.Draw your sword, count, and defend yourself; we are discovered, and they are upon us!""We are upon them, you mean, and it is they who are discovered,"said the count, doing as directed, and stepping boldly in."Apretty hornet's next is this we have lit upon, if ever there was one."Side by side with the count, with a dauntless step and eye, Sir Norman entered, too; and, at sight of him a burst of surprise and fury rang from lip to lip.There was a yell of "Betrayed, betrayed!" and the dwarf, with a face so distorted by fiendish fury that it was scarcely human, made a frenzied rush at him, when the clear, commanding voice of the count rang like a bugle blast through the assembly"Sheathe your swords, the whole of you, and yield yourselves prisoners.In the king's name, I command you to surrender.""There is no king here but I!" screamed the dwarf, gnashing his teeth, and fairly foaming with rage."Die; traitor and spy! You have escaped me once, but your hour is come now.""Allow me to differ from you," said Sir Norman, politely, as he evaded the blindly-frantic lunge of the dwarf's sword, and inserted an inch or two of the point of his own in that enraged little prince's anatomy."So far from my hour having come - if you will take the trouble to reflect upon it - you will find it is the reverse, and that my little friend's brief and brilliant career in rapidly drawing to a close."At these bland remarks, and at the sharp thrust that accompanied them, the dwarfs previous war-dance of anxiety was nothing to the horn-pipe of exasperation he went through when Sir Norman ceased.
The blood was raining from his side, and from the point of his adversary's sword, as he withdrew it; and, maddened like a wild beast at the sight of his own blood, he screeched, and foamed, and kicked about his stout little legs, and gnashed his teeth, and made grabs at his wig, and lashed the air with his sword, and made such desperate pokes with it, at Sir Norman and everybody else who came in his way, that, for the public good, the young knight run him through the sword-arm, and, in spite of all his distracted didos, captured him by the help of Hubert, and passed him over to the soldiers to cheer and keep company with the duke.
This brisk little affair being over, Sir Norman had time to look about him.It had all passed in so short a space, and the dwarf had been so desperately frantic, that the rest had paused involuntarily, and were still looking on.Missing the count, he glanced around the room, and discovered him standing on Miranda's throne, looking over the company with the cool air of a conqueror.Miranda, aroused, as she very well might be by all this screaming and fighting, had partly raised herself upon her elbow, and was looking wildly about her.As her eye fell on Sir Norman, she sat fairly erect, with a cry of exultation and joy.
