But there was no time for the consideration of this point, for a sudden hush fell upon the hall. It was whispered round that the hour of midnight had all but arrived, and in dead silence the company awaited the stroke of the great bell which would clang overhead when the moment should have actually arrived. Glasses were filled, and the company stood, awaiting in breathless expectancy for the signal. The Demoiselle pressed up close to Alys, and pointed to a dusky mirror hanging upon the wall of the little gallery in which they stood, which was more of an alcove than a gallery proper. "Dost see yon mirror?" she whispered. "It was taken from one of the rooms and hung here, because they said it was an uncanny thing. They say that if you look in it as the bell tolls in the new year, you will see therein the face of the man whom you will one day marry. It was moved from the bedchamber, where once it stood, because they say it caused the death of a maiden who looked in it, and saw therein a skeleton form with a scythe over his shoulder. I looked once, but saw nothing. Wilt thou not look to-night?--only one maid may do so each year--and I will turn mine eyes away." Alys was shivering with a strange sort of tremor. Suppose young Lord Amalric were to move so that his face should be reflected in the glass: would that not seem like an omen to her? But he was leaning over the balustrade and looking down into the hall below, and the Demoiselle linked her arm in his as though to keep him where he was. The silence was a strange, uncanny thing in a place filled with a multitude of revellers. Alys felt her breath come thick and fast, and the colour ebb from her lips. "Boom--boom--boom!" The great bell overhead had begun to toll forth its message. Shivering all over, Alys felt her eyes drawn as if by magnetic attraction to the face of the dusky mirror. Suddenly a little gasping cry broke from her, drowned by the sudden clamour that rose from below; for in the dim black surface of the ancient mirror she had distinctly seen the face of Leofric Wyvill form itself, and stand out distinct and clear! CHAPTER XXVI. _PLOTS._ At the sound of Alys's cry Amalric and his sister turned quickly round, and the next moment a startled exclamation broke from young De Montfort. "Leofric! is this truly thyself? or do we see thy ghost?" Trembling in every limb, scarce able to separate the real from the unreal, Alys turned round to see that Amalric was grasping the hands of some person who had just opened the little door in the alcove, which was opposite the dusky mirror, and it dawned upon her that it was no phantom face she had seen, nor yet the freak of a disordered fancy; but that Leofric Wyvill was at Kenilworth, and standing within a few feet of her. Yet for the moment he appeared not even aware of her presence. He was speaking with Amalric in low, constrained tones. "Say only that I am not too late. The Earl, thy father, how is it with him?"