“Child, child!” said La Masque, in a tone so strangely sad that it touched Leoline, “do not be angry with me. It is no idle curiosity that sent me here at this hour to ask impertinent questions, but a claim that I have upon you, stronger than that of any one else in the world.” Leoline's beautiful eyes opened wider yet. “A claim upon me! How? Why? I do not understand.” “All in good time. Will you tell me something of your past history, Leoline?” “Madame Masque, I have no history to tell. All my life I have lived alone with Prudence; that in the whole of it in nine words.” La Masque half laughed. “Short, sharp, and decisive. Had you never father or mother?” “There is a slight probability I may have had at some past period,” said Leoline, sighing; “but none that I ever knew.” “Why does not Prudence tell you?” “Prudence is only my nurse, and says she has nothing to tell. My parents died when I was an infant, and left me in her care--that is her story.” “A likely one enough, and yet I see by your face that you doubt it.” “I do doubt it! There are a thousand little outward things that make me fancy it is false, and an inward voice that assures me it is so.” “Then let me tell you that inward voice tells falsehoods, for I know that your father and mother are both dead these fourteen years!” Leoline's great black eyes were fixed on her face with a look so wild and eager, that La Masque laid her hand lightly and soothingly on her shoulder. “Don't look at me with such a spectral face! What is there so extraordinary in all I have said?” “You said you knew my father and mother.” “No such thing! I said I knew they were dead, but the other fact is true also; I did know them when living!” “Madame, who are you? Who were they?” “I? Oh, I am La Masque, the sorceress, and they--they were Leoline's father and mother!” and again La Masque slightly laughed. “You mock me, madame!” cried Leoline, passionately. “You are cruel--you are heartless! If you know anything, in Heaven's name tell me--if not, go and leave me in peace!” “Thank you! I shall do that presently; and as to the other--of course I shall tell you; what else do you suppose I have come for to-night? Look here! Do you see this?” She drew out from some hidden pocket in her dress a small and beautifully-wrought casket of ivory and silver, with straps and clasps of silver, and a tiny key of the same. “Well!” asked Leoline, looking from it to her, with the blank air of one utterly bewildered, “In this casket, my dear, there is a roll of papers, closely written, which you are to read as soon as I leave you. Those papers contain your whole history--do you understand?” She was looking so white, and staring so hard and so hopelessly, that there was need of the question. She took the casket and gazed at it with a perplexed air. “My child, have your thoughts gone wool-gathering? Do you not comprehend what I have said to you! Your whole history is hid in that box?”