Her maid had over-acted her instructions, and had not only turned the lights low, but had turned them out entirely.

There was no need of artificial light, however; for the windows were open and the room was flooded with the brilliant moonshine of these northern latitudes.

Salome did not know or care how the room was lighted.  She sat there thrilled with awe of what she had just experienced.

Had she really seen the marquis?—­or his spirit?  Or had she been the victim of an optical illusion?

If she had seen the marquis, what could have brought him secretly into the house and up into the hall of the bed-rooms, at that hour of the night?  And why did he not answer her, when she called him?

It surely could not have been the marquis whom she saw!  He never would have crept into the house and up to their private-rooms, at that hour of the night, or fled from her, when she called him?

What was it then that she had seen in the likeness of her lover?

Was it the disembodied spirit of Arondelle? Could the spirit of a living man appear in one place, while the body of the man was present in another?  She had heard and read of such wonders, yet she could not accept them as facts.

No, this was no spirit.

What then?  Had she been the subject of an optical illusion?  She had heard of those wonders also!

But no!  This was too real, too solid, too substantial for an optical illusion!

Was the form she had seen possibly that of some other person, some guest of the house, who had lost his way.

No, and a thousand noes!  She knew every guest staying at the castle, and knew that not one of them bore the slightest resemblance to the Marquis of Arondelle.

No, the form that she had seen in the murky hall seemed that of her betrothed husband, or it was his spirit.

She could not tell which, nor could she test the question now.  The house was full of wedding guests, who were now most probably sound asleep in their beds.  And the household all had long since retired.  She could not rouse them only to satisfy her own doubts without any other practical result.  For what if the intruder were Lord Arondelle?  He was not in the least an objectional guest.  And in the morning he would explain his strange presence.

By this time Salome had reasoned herself into some degree of calmness.  But she was still too much excited to feel sleepy or to think of retiring to bed.

The mid-summer night was warm and close, even there in the Highlands—­or in her nervous condition it seemed to her to be so.  She wanted more air.  She went to the window, and seated herself in an easy-chair, and looked out.

A heavenly night!

The deep-blue sky was spangled with myriads of sparkling stars.  The full harvest moon was at the zenith and pouring down a flood of silvery radiance over mountain, lake and island.