inst a sheet of
paper that lay beneath them. He knew not that I stood above him; he was
listening to other footsteps.

The paper was a letter, unfolded and written over with great black
characters. The few lines above those moving fingers stared me in the
face. They ran thus: "I told you that you had as well cut your throat
as go upon that mad Virginia voyage. Now all's gone,--wealth, honors,
favor. Buckingham is the sun in heaven, and cold are the shadows in
which we walk who hailed another luminary. There's a warrant out for
the Black Death; look to it that one meets not you too, when you come at
last. But come, in the name of all the fiends, and play your last card.
There's your cursed beauty still. Come, and let the King behold your
face once more"--The rest was hidden.

I put out my hand and touched him upon the shoulder, and he raised his
head and stared at me as at one come from the grave.

Over one side of his face, from temple to chin, was drawn and fastened
a black cloth; the unharmed cheek was bloodless and shrunken, the lip
twisted. Only the eyes, dark, sinister, and splendid, were as they had
been. "I dig not my graves deep enough," he said. "Is she behind you
there in the shadow?"

Flung across a chair was a cloak of scarlet cloth. I took it and spread
it out upon the floor, then unsheathed a dagger which I had taken from
the rack of weapons in the Governor's hall. "Loosen thy poniard, thou
murderer," I cried, "and come stand with me upon the cloak."

"Art quick or dead?" he answered. "I will not fight the dead." He had
not moved in his seat, and there was a lethargy and a dullness in his
voice and eyes. "There is time enough," he said. "I too will soon be
of thy world, thou haggard, bloody shape. Wait until I come, and I will
fight thee, shadow to shadow."

"I am not dead," I said, "but there is one that is. Stand up, villain
and murderer, or I will kill you sitting there, with her blood upon your
hands!"

He rose at that, and drew his dagger from the sheath. I laid aside my
doublet, and he followed my example, but his hands moved listlessly and
his fingers bungled at the fastenings. I waited for him in some wonder,
it not being like him to come tardily to such pastime.

He came at length, slowly and with an uncertain step, and we stood
together on the scarlet cloak. I raised my left arm and he raised his,
and we locked hands. There was no strength in his clasp; his hand lay
within mine cold and