his class of life, except when called forth by peculiar habits, or
extraordinary circumstances. His eyes were very small, but bright and
deeply set. His lips wore a constant sarcastic smile, which gave him the
air of a bold but cunning man. His throat and bosom were bare, and of a
deep copper colour; and his muscular chest was covered with short curly
hair. The conversation on George's part became more animated, and he at
length made use of what seemed an unanswerable argument. Taking out a
beaded purse, which Sir Henry knew well--it had been Emily's last
present to George--he emptied the contents into the bronzed hand of his
companion, who grasped the money with avidity. The Maltese _now_
appeared to acquiesce in all George's wishes; and rising, went towards
the bed, and selected some of the articles of wearing apparel Delme had
already noticed. He addressed some words to George, who sat on the
bedside quiescently, while the man went to the table, and took up a
knife that was upon it. For a moment, Delme felt alarm lest his design
might be a murderous one; but it was not so. He laughed savagely, as he
made use of the knife, to cut off the luxuriant chestnut ringlets, which
shaded George's eyes and forehead. He then applied to the face some
darkening liquid, and commenced choosing a sable dress. George threw off
his cloak, and was attired by the Maltese, in a long black cotton robe
of the coarsest material, which, descending to the feet, came in a hood
over his face, which it almost entirely concealed. During the whole of
this scene, George Delme's features wore an air of dogged apathy, which
alarmed his brother, even more than his agitation in the earlier part of
the day. After his being metamorphosed in the way we have described, it
would have been next to an impossibility to have recognised him. His
companion put on a dress of the same nature, and Sir Henry was preparing
to make his retreat, presuming that they would now leave the building,
when he was induced to stay for the purpose of remarking the conduct of
the Maltese. He took up a scull, and placing his finger through an
eyeless hole, whence _once_ love beamed or hate flashed, he made some
savage comment, which he accompanied by a long and malignant laugh. This
would at another time have shocked Sir Henry, but there was another
laugh, wilder and more discordant, that curdled the blood in Delme's
veins. It proceeded from his brother, the gay--the happy George Delme;
and as it re-echoed through the gloomy passage, it seemed that of a
remorseless demon, gloating on the misfortunes of the human race. Delme
turned away in agony, and, unperceived, regained the anxious domestic.
Screened by an angle of the building, they saw George and his companion
ascend the stone steps, cross the yard, and turn into the street. They
followed him cautiously--Delme's ears ringing with that fiendish laugh.
George's companion stopped for a moment, at a house in the street, where
they were joined by a sallow-looking priest, apparently one of the most
disgusting of his tribe. He was accompanied by a boy, also drest in
sacerdotal robes, in one hand bearing a silver-ornamented staff, of the
kind frequently used in processions, and in other observances of the
Catholic religion; and in the other, a rude lanthorn, whose light
enabled Delme to note these particulars. As the four figures swept
through the streets, the lower orders prostrated themselves, before the
figure of the crucified and dying Saviour which surmounted the staff.
They again stopped, and the priest entered a house alone. On coming
back, he was followed by a coffin, borne on the shoulders of four of the
lower order of Maltese. At the moment these were leaving the house,
Henry heard a solitary scream, apparently of a woman. It was wild and
thrilling; such an one as we hear from the hovering sea bird, as the
tempest gathers to a head. To Delme, coming as it did at that lone hour
from one he saw not, it seemed superhuman. In the front of the house
stood two caleches, the last of which, Sir Henry observed was without
doors. At a sign from the Maltese, George and his strange companion