standing
darkened; and madness within.

Healths poisonous to his heart went round, and he was forced to drain
them in honor of the Master. An inward shivering disjointed his members,
unstrung his nerves, heart and frame fainted into weakness, a dew cold
as death covered his temples, and his head fell wearily upon his
breast--the walls, the floors, the ceilings, the men, the burning urns,
danced, reeled, and tottered in wild confusion before him. The murmuring
voices, the buzz of sound, the swell of the triumphant music, the
strange words of the foreign bride, mingled and boomed like the roar of
the sea in the ears of the swooning man--and so the last hours passed
away!

He still lived, if life be measured by the wild throbs of the heart.
Like the clap of doom the last hour struck upon his ear. He opened his
heavy eyelids, the blue flames from the urns were dying out. The Master
of Life and Death, graciously smiling and courteously inclining toward
him, said: 'Guest of my Banquet, the hour has struck in which thou art
to swear to serve me; in which thou must abjure thine ancient faith and
name.'

As he spake, he threw to him across the table jewelled orders and
diamond crosses, saying: 'Wear these in memory of me!' The Herald then
drew near, and read to him from the Black Book the form of abjuration.
The agonizing and swooning man mechanically repeated the words one by
one after him, not even hearing the sound of his own voice. His head had
fallen on the bosom of his bride, his lips still moved, but his eyes
were glaring in the whiteness of death--and so he uttered all the
prescribed words until the very last was said!

Scarcely had he finished, when the Master of Life and Death arose and
said: 'Servant of my servants art thou now--beware! shouldst thou prove
false to thy oath, the rope of the hangman surely awaits thee.' Then he
broke into a loud, coarse laugh of triumph!

The unfortunate man raised his wretched head, and his first look fell
upon the urn of his murdered Mother. In place of her name of glory
another word was standing now: 'INFAMY!' 'Infamy,'--he looked
again; he shrieked aloud, 'Infamy;' and started from his seat with the
last effort of his failing strength. 'Infamy!' shouted the thousands
from before, behind, from either side. 'Infamy' sounded from the
ceilings of the Palace, the Hall of the Throne, the deep mines and
limitless Treasury! Some among the crowd hastened to greet him by his
new name,