"Come forth, Sir Norman Kingsley!" shouted the dwarf, rushing in.
"Come forth and meet your doom!"
But no Sir Norman Kingsley obeyed the pleasant invitation, and a
dull echo from the darkness alone answered him. There was a lamp
burning on the floor, and near it lay a form, shining and specked
with white in the gloom. He made for it between fear and fury,
but there was something red and slippery on the ground, in which
his foot slipped, and he fell. Simultaneously there was a wild
cry from the two guards and the attendant, that was echoed by a
perfect screech of rage from the dwarf, as on looking down he
beheld Queen Miranda lying on the floor in the pool of blood, and
apparently quite dead, and Sir Norman Kingsley gone.
CHAPTER, XIV.
IN THE DUNGEON.
The interim between Miranda setting down her lamp on the dungeon
floor among the rats and the beetles, and the dwarf's finding her
bleeding and senseless, was not more than twenty minutes, but a
great deal may be done in twenty minutes judiciously expended,
and most decidedly it was so in the present case. Both rats and
beetles paused to contemplate the flickering lamp, and Miranda
paused to contemplate them, and Sir Norman paused to contemplate
her, for an instant or so in silence.
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