There, for instance, is
one a dozen timer more beautiful than Mistress Stuart herself!"
Leaning, in his nonchalant way, on the hilt of his sword, he
pointed to Miranda, whose fiercely-joyful eyes were fixed w with
a glance that made the three of them shudder, on the bloody floor
and the heap of slain.
"Who is that?" asked the count, curiously. "Why is she perched
up there, and why does she bear such an extraordinary resemblance
to Leoline? Do you know anything about her, Kingsley?"
"I know she is the wife of that unlovely little man, whose howls
in yonder passage you can hear, if you listen, and that she was
the queen of this midnight court, and is wounded, if not dying,
now!"
"I never saw such fierce eyes before in a female head! One would
think she fairly exulted in this wholesale slaughter of her
subjects."
"So she does; and she hates both her husband and her subjects,
with an intensity you cannot conceive."
"How very like royalty!" observed Hubert, in parenthesis. "If
she were a real queen, she could not act more naturally."
Sir Norman smiled, and the count glanced at the audacious page,
suspiciously; but Hubert's face was touching to witness, in its
innocent unconsciousness.
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