floor, and by its sickly, watery gleam, he saw himself again standing, pale and dejected, near the wall. But he was not alone; the same glittering vision in purple and diamonds stood before him, and suddenly he drew his sword and plunged it up to the hilt in her heart! The beautiful vision fell like a stone at his feet, and the sword was drawn out reeking with her life-blood. This was a little too much for the real Sir Norman, and with an expression of indignant consternation, he sprang upright. Instantly it all faded away and the reflection of his own excited face looked up at him from the caldron. “I told you not to speak,” said La Masque, quietly, “but you must look on still another scene.” Again she threw a portion of the contents of the casket into the caldron, and “spake aloud the words of power.” Another cloud of smoke arose and filled the room, and when it cleared away, Sir Norman beheld a third and less startling sight. The scene and place he could not discover, but it seemed to him like night and a storm. Two men were lying on the ground, and bound fast together, it appeared to him. As he looked, it faded away, and once more his own face seemed to mock him in the clear water. “Do you know those two last figures!” asked the lady. “I do,” said Sir Norman, promptly; “it was Ormiston and myself.” “Right! and one of them was dead.” “Dead!” exclaimed Sir Norman, with a perceptible start. “Which one, madam?” “If you cannot tell that, neither can I. If there is anything further you wish to see, I am quite willing to show it to you.” “I'm obliged to you,” said Sir Norman, stepping back; “but no more at present, thank you. Do you mean to say, madam, that I'm some day to murder a lady, especially one so beautiful as she I just now saw?” “I have said nothing--all you've seen will come to pass, and whether your destiny be for good or evil, I have nothing to do with it, except,” said the sweet voice, earnestly, “that if La Masque could strew Sir Norman Kingsley's pathway with roses, she would most assuredly do so.” “Madam, you are too kind,” said that young gentleman, laying his hand on his heart, while Ormiston scowled darkly--“more especially as I've the misfortune to be a perfect stranger to you.” “Not so, Sir Norman. I have known you this many a day; and before long we shall be better acquainted. Permit me to wish you good evening!” At this gentle hint, both gentlemen bowed themselves out, and soon found themselves in the street, with very different expressions of countenance. Sir Norman looking considerably pleased and decidedly puzzled, and Mr. Ormiston looking savagely and uncompromisingly jealous. The animated skeleton who had admitted them closed the door after them; and the two friends stood in the twilight on London Bridge. CHAPTER II. THE DEAD BRIDE “Well,” said Ormiston, drawing a long bath, “what do you think of that?”