216 THE BRIGHTON ROAD 



the lady advanced, swinging the iron door after her, 

 which closed with a tremendous clang. Approaching 

 the statue of the first Sir Ranulph she passed, and 

 Alan then remarked the singular and terrible expression 

 of her eyes, which appeared to be fixed upon the statue, 

 or upon some invisible object near it. There was 

 something in her whole attitude and maimer calculated 

 to impress the deepest terror on the beholder, and 

 Alan gazed upon her with an awe which momently 

 increased. Lady Rookwood's bearing was as proud 

 and erect as we have formerly described it to have 

 been, her brow was as haughtily bent, her chiselled 

 lip as disdainfully curled ; but the staring, changeless 

 eye, and the deep-heaved sob which occasionally 

 escaped her, betrayed how much she was under the 

 influence of mortal terror. Alan watched her in 

 amazement. He knew not how the scene was likelv 

 to terminate, nor what could have induced her to 

 visit this ghost ly spot at such an hour and alone ; but 

 he resolved to abide the issue in silence— profound as 

 her own. After a time, however, his impatience got 

 the better of his fears and scruples, and he spoke. 



" ' What doth Lady Rookwood in the abode of the 

 dead ? ' asked he at length. 



" She started at the sound of his voice, but still 

 kept her eye fixed upon the vacancy. 



" ' Hast thou not beckoned me hither, and am I 

 not come ? ' returned she, in a hollow tone. 4 And 

 now thou askest wherefore I am here. I am here 

 because, as in thy life I feared thee not, neither in 

 death do I fear thee. I am here because- 



" ' What seest thou ? ' interrupted Alan, with ill- 

 suppressed terror. 



" ' What see I — ha — ha ! ' shouted Lady Rookwood, 

 amidst discordant laughter ; ' that which might 

 appal a heart less stout than mine — a figure anguish- 

 writhen, with veins that glow as with a subtle and 

 consuming flame. A substance, vet a shadow, in thv 

 living likeness. Ha — frown if thou wilt ; I can 

 return thy glances.' 



