“And the other is?” “The other is she whom you sent me to see in the old ruins. Madame, I wish you would tell me the secret of this wonderful likeness; for I am certain you know, and I am equally certain it is not accidental.” “You are right. Leoline knows already; for, with the presentiment that my end was near, I visited her when you left, and gave her her whole history, in writing. The explanation is simple enough. Leoline, Miranda, and Hubert, are sisters and brother.” Some misty idea that such was the case had been struggling through Sir Norman's slow mind, unformed and without shape, ever since he had seen the trio, therefore he was not the least astonished when he heard the fact announced. Only in one thing he was a little disappointed. “Then Hubert is really a boy?” he said, half dejectedly. “Certainly he is. What did you take him to be?” “Why, I thought--that is, I do not know,” said Sir Norman, quite blushing at being guilty of so much romance, “but that he was a woman in disguise. You see he is so handsome, and looks so much like Leoline, that I could not help thinking so.” “He is Leoline's twin brother--that accounts for it. When does she become your wife?” “This very morning, God willing!” said Sir Norman, fervently. “Amen! And may her life and yours be long and happy. What becomes of the rest?” “Since Hubert is her brother, he shall come with us, if he will. As for the other, she, alas! is dead.” “Dead!” cried La Masque. “How? When? She was living, tonight!” “True! She died of a wound.” “A wound? Surely not given by the dwarfs hand?” “No, no; it was quite accidental. But since you know so much of the dwarf, perhaps you also know he is now the king's prisoner?” “I did not know it; but I surmised as much when I discovered that you and Count L'Estrange, followed by such a body of men, visited the ruin. Well, his career has been long and dark enough, and even the plague seemed to spare him for the executioner. And so the poor mock-queen is dead? Well, her sister will not long survive her.” “Good Heavens, madame!” cried Sir Norman, aghast. “You do not mean to say that Leoline is going to die?” “Oh, no! I hope Leoline has a long and happy life before her. But the wretched, guilty sister I mean is, myself; for I, too, Sir Norman, am her sister.” At this new disclosure, Sir Norman stood perfectly petrified; and La Masque, looking down at the dreadful place at her feet, went rapidly on: “Alas and alas! that it should be so; but it is the direful truth. We bear the same name, we had the same father; and yet I have been the curse and bane of their lives.” “And Leoline knows this?” “She never knew it until this night, or any one else alive; and no one should know it now, were not my ghastly life ending. I prayed her to forgive me for the wrong I have done her; and she may, for she is gentle and good--but when, when shall I be able to forgive myself?”