But the lady stole noiselessly behind her and
threw the veil over her head. As the slight, ethereal texture sank
inevitably down over her figure, the poor girl strove to raise it,
and met her dear friend's eyes with one glance of mortal terror, and
deep, deep reproach. It could not change her purpose.
"Arise, Magician!" she exclaimed, stamping her foot upon the earth.
"Here is the Veiled Lady!"
At the word, up rose the bearded man in the Oriental robes,--the
beautiful, the dark magician, who had bartered away his soul! He
threw his arms around the Veiled Lady, and she was his bond-slave for
evermore!
Zenobia, all this while, had been holding the piece of gauze, and so
managed it as greatly to increase the dramatic effect of the legend
at those points where the magic veil was to be described. Arriving
at the catastrophe, and uttering the fatal words, she flung the gauze
over Priscilla's head; and for an instant her auditors held their
breath, half expecting, I verily believe, that the magician would
start up through the floor, and carry off our poor little friend
before our eyes.
As for Priscilla, she stood droopingly in the midst of us, making no
attempt to remove the veil.
"How do you find yourself, my love?" said Zenobia, lifting a corner
of the gauze, and peeping beneath it with a mischievous smile. "Ah,
the dear little soul! Why, she is really going to faint! Mr.
Coverdale, Mr. Coverdale, pray bring a glass of water!"
Her nerves being none of the strongest, Priscilla hardly recovered
her equanimity during the rest of the evening.
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