While he yet gazed in mingled astonishment and incredulity, the scene faded away, and another took its place.

This time a dungeon-cell, damp and dismal; walls, and floor, and ceiling covered with green and hideous slime.

A small lamp stood on the 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.