goddess."

The door opened, and the "old bag of bones," as Ormiston
irreverently styled his lady-love's ancient domestic, made a sign
for them to follow him. Leading the way down along a corridor,
he flung open a pair of shining folding-doors at the end, and
ushered them at once into the majestic presence of the sorceress
and her magic room. Both gentlemen doffed their plumed hats.
Ormiston stepped forward at once; but Sir Norman discreetly
paused in the doorway to contemplate the scene of action. As he
slowly did so, a look of deep displeasure settled on his
features, on finding it not half so awful as he had supposed.

In some ways it was very like the room they had left, being low,
large, and square, and having floors, walls and ceiling paneled
with glossy black oak. But it had no windows - a large bronze
lamp, suspended from the centre of the ceiling, shed a
flickering, ghostly light. There were no paintings - some grim
carvings of skulls, skeletons, and serpents, pleasantly wreathed
the room - neither were there seats nor tables - nothing but a
huge ebony caldron at the upper end of the apartment, over which
a grinning skeleton on wires, with a scythe in one hand of bone,
and an hour-glass in the other, kept watch and ward. Opposite
this cheerful-looking guardian, was a tall figure in black,
standing an motionless as if it, too, was carved in ebony. It
was a female figure, very tall and slight, but as beautifully
symmetrical as a Venus Celestis. Her dress was of black velvet,
that swept the polished floor, spangled all over with stars of
gold and rich rubies. A profusion of shining black hair fell in
waves and curls almost to her feet; but her face, from forehead