There '' -- and he shuddered -- `` there hangs her mantle , on which a dead woman embroidered a spell of dreadful potency . But where is the Lady Eleanore ? '' Something stirred within the silken curtains of a canopied bed and a low moan was uttered , which , listening intently , Jervase Helwyse began to distinguish as a woman 's voice complaining dolefully of thirst . He fancied , even , that he recognized its tones . `` My throat ! My throat is scorched , '' murmured the voice . `` A drop of water ! '' `` What thing art thou ? '' said the brain-stricken youth , drawing near the bed and tearing asunder its curtains . `` Whose voice hast thou stolen for thy murmurs and miserable petitions , as if Lady Eleanore could be conscious of mortal infirmity ? Fie ! Heap of diseased mortality , why lurkest thou in my lady 's chamber ? '' `` Oh , Jervase Helwyse , '' said the voice -- and as it spoke the figure contorted itself , struggling to hide its blasted face -- `` look not now on the woman you once loved . The curse of Heaven hath stricken me because I would not call man my brother nor woman sister . I wrapped myself in pride as in a mantle and scorned the sympathies of nature , and therefore has Nature made this wretched body the medium of a dreadful sympathy . You are avenged , they are all avenged , Nature is avenged ; for I am Eleanore Rochcliffe . '' The malice of his mental disease , the bitterness lurking at the bottom of his heart , mad as he was , for a blighted and ruined life and love that had been paid with cruel scorn , awoke within the breast of Jervase Helwyse . He shook his finger at the wretched girl , and the chamber echoed , the curtains of the bed were shaken , with his outburst of insane merriment . `` Another triumph for the Lady Eleanore ! '' he cried .
`` All have been her victims ; who so worthy XXXXX be the final victim as herself ? ''
at because for in near of on to with within