With a too unscrupulous confidence she had
previously communicated to me the secret of the costume in which she
would be habited, and now, having caught a glimpse of her person, I
was hurrying to make my way into her presence. --At this moment I felt
a light hand placed upon my shoulder, and that ever-remembered, low,
damnable whisper within my ear.
In an absolute phrenzy of wrath, I turned at once upon him who had
thus interrupted me, and seized him violently by tile collar. He was
attired, as I had expected, in a costume altogether similar to my own;
wearing a Spanish cloak of blue velvet, begirt about the waist with
a crimson belt sustaining a rapier. A mask of black silk entirely
covered his face.
"Scoundrel!" I said, in a voice husky with rage, while every
syllable I uttered seemed as new fuel to my fury, "scoundrel!
impostor! accursed villain! you shall not --you shall not dog me
unto death! Follow me, or I stab you where you stand!" --and I broke
my way from the ball-room into a small ante-chamber adjoining
--dragging him unresistingly with me as I went.
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