Then madam will banish every one from her
chamber, in inconsolable grief--lock the door--tap on the
window-pane--_he_ will hear the signal, and come up the back
staircase--when madam will open the private door for him to come in and
take a look at your body! Do you understand now, sir?'
"'Yes,' I said. 'Remain here, Nighthawk. There is the step of the
servant coming to tell me tea is ready!'"
XX.
THE CUP OF TEA.
"The door opened as I uttered the words, and my old major-domo--gray
haired, and an heir-loom, so to say, of the family--bowed low, and
announced that tea was served and madam waiting.
"I rose and looked into the mirror above the fireplace. I was pale, but
not sufficiently so to excite suspicion; and with a smile which
frightened Nighthawk, took my way toward the supper-room.
"Madam was awaiting me, as I suspected, and I had never seen her look
more radiant. A single glance told me that she had made an elaborate
toilet in honor of--my funeral! Her dark hair was in shining braids;
her eyes sparkled with joy; her parted lips showed her white
teeth;--the only evidence I saw of concealed emotion was in the
bloodless cheeks. They were as white as the lace falling over her
superb silk dress.
"'You see you keep me waiting!' she said, with playful _naivete_, 'and
your tea is growing cold, sir--which is worse for me than for you, as
you do not care, but I care for you!'
"And as I passed her, she drew me playfully toward her, dragged me
down, and held up her lips.
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