"I thought I saw them moving," said Adelaide. The Advocate smiled, and said:
"It is the play of light over the figures that created the delusion; they are harmless, Adelaide."
The glow of sunset shone through a painted window upon the faces, which to a nervous mind might have seemed to be animated with living colour.
"Look at that frightful head," said Adelaide; "it is really stained with blood."
"And now," observed the Advocate, "the blood-stain fades away, and in the darker light the expression grows sad and solemn."
"I should be frightened of this room at night," said Adelaide, with a slight shiver; "I should fancy those hideous beings were only waiting an opportunity to steal out upon me for an evil purpose."
A noise in the passage outside diverted their attention.
"Gently, Fritz, gently," cried a voice, "unless you wish to make holes in the sound part of me."
The Advocate moved to the door, and opened it. A strange sight came into view.
A VISIT FROM PIERRE LAMONT--DREAMS OF LOVE
At the door stood Fritz the Fool, carrying in his arms what in the gathering dusk looked like a bundle. This bundle was human--a man who was but half a man. Embracing Fritz, with one arm tightly clutching the Fool's neck, the figure commenced to speak the moment the door was opened.
"I only am to blame; learning that you were in the study, I insisted upon being brought here immediately; carry me in gently, Fool, and set me in that chair."
The chair indicated was close to the writing-table, by which the Advocate was standing.
"Fritz made me acquainted with your arrival," continued the intruder, "and I hastened here without delay. When I tell you that I live two miles off, eight hundred feet above the level of this valley, you will realise the jolting I have had in my wheeled chair. Fritz, you can leave us; but be within call, as you must help to get me home again. Is there any need for me to introduce myself?" he asked.
"As much as is left of me; but I manage to exist. I have proved that a man can live without legs. You received my letter?"
"Yes; and I thank you for your attention. My wife," said the Advocate, introducing Adelaide. Attracted by the dulcet voice of Pierre Lamont, she had come out of the deeper shadows of the room. Dionetta had spoken truly; this thin, shrivelled wreck of mortality had a voice as sweet as honey.