the presence of a masked figure which had arrested the
attention of no single individual before. And the rumour of this
new presence having spread itself whisperingly around, there arose
at length from the whole company a buzz, or murmur, expressive of
disapprobation and surprise--then, finally, of terror, of horror,
and of disgust.

In an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may
well be supposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited
such sensation. In truth the masquerade licence of the night was
nearly unlimited; but the figure in question had out-Heroded Herod,
and gone beyond the bounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum.
There are chords in the hearts of the most reckless which cannot be
touched without emotion. Even with the utterly lost, to whom life
and death are equally jests, there are matters of which no jest can
be made. The whole company, indeed, seemed now deeply to feel that
in the costume and bearing of the stranger neither wit nor
propriety existed. The figure was tall and gaunt, and shrouded
from head to foot in the habiliments of the grave. The mask which
concealed the visage was made so nearly to resemble the countenance
of a stiffened corpse that the closest scrutiny must have had
difficulty in detecting the cheat. And yet all this might have
been endured, if not approved, by the mad revellers around. But
the mummer had gone so far as to assume the type of the Red Death.
His vesture was dabbled in blood--and his broad brow, with all
the features of the face, was besprinkled with the scarlet horror.

When the eyes of the Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral
image (which, with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to
sustain its role, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was