When these heaven-born sounds had ceased, a door opened in the
upper end of the apartment, and they saw Damiotti, standing at
the head of two or three steps, sign to them to advance. His
dress was so different from that which he had worn a few minutes
before, that they could hardly recognize him; and the deadly
paleness of his countenance, and a certain stern rigidity of
muscles, like that of one whose mind is made up to some strange
and daring action, had totally changed the somewhat sarcastic
expression with which he had previously regarded them both, and
particularly Lady Bothwell. He was barefooted, excepting a
species of sandals in the antique fashion; his legs were naked
beneath the knees; above them he wore hose, and a doublet of dark
crimson silk close to his body; and over that a flowing loose
robe, something resembling a surplice, of snow-white linen. His
throat and neck were uncovered, and his long, straight, black
hair was carefully combed down at full length.
As the ladies approached at his bidding, he showed no gesture of
that ceremonious courtesy of which he had been formerly lavish.
On the contrary, he made the signal of advance with an air of
command; and when, arm in arm, and with insecure steps, the
sisters approached the spot where he stood, it was with a warning
frown that he pressed his finger to his lips, as if reiterating
his condition of absolute silence, while, stalking before them,
he led the way into the next apartment.
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