"Give him this," said Alvord, offering a coin, "and make him think it's hot. People in this neighborhood would go farther to see Bra.s.sfield drop a piece of money, than to interview a live dinosaur!"

The laughter at this sally was lost on Madame le Claire. She was looking down on the unconscious Amidon, and wondering how any one could think of making him the instrument of buffoonery.

"I will perform only one simple, yet very difficult, lest," said she.

"This gentleman will soon wake as Mr. Bra.s.sfield, and will be his old and usual self among you until a certain hour, which I will write on this card, and seal up in this envelope, so that no one will know, and inform Mr. Bra.s.sfield by suggestion. When that particular moment arrives, wherever he may be, whatever he may be doing, he will enter the cataleptic state. The test is regarded as a severe and perfect one. The card will remain in the possession of Major Pumphrey until it succeeds or fails, and the envelope will then be opened."

Kneeling on the dais, she seemed whispering in the subject's ear.

Then, tapping his wrist, she said, decisively, "Wake!"

It was Eugene Bra.s.sfield who opened his eyes on a circle of his friends, a.s.sociates and cronies. He rose lightly and confidently, and laughed at the chaffing of his friends. He bowed to Madame le Claire, and moved across the room to Elizabeth's side, with an air of incipient proprietorship.

"No true lover of carnations," he confided to her, "could wish you to wear them as you do to-night."

"Really? I suppose I ought to ask why?"

"It isn't fair to the flowers," said he. "Flowers have rights, you know, and to be outdone in sweetness---- Ah, Jim! Go away, and don't bother me! Don't you see I'm very busy?"

"Old man," said Alvord, answering to the name of "Jim," "it's good to see you as you are to-night--your old self. You'll make a hit, my boy.

This will make it more than ever a cinch!"

Self-possessed, masterful, Mr. Bra.s.sfield moved through the a.s.sembly like a conqueror. Those who, a short time ago, found him dull and moody, rejoiced now in his confident persiflage pitched safely in the restful key of mediocrity, but possessed withal of a species of brilliancy, like the skilful playing of scales. Elizabeth noted the return of that dash and abandon which she had lately so missed--but for the first time the Bra.s.sfield music had a hollow ring in her ears. The subtler melody of last night--after all, it was best!

Madame le Claire, immensely popular, gave readings in palmistry. Miss Smith was to have a husband with dark eyes. Mr. Bra.s.sfield offered to cross her palm with any gold coin she might name, if she would promise him a sweetheart with party-colored eyes, who would meet him for a long talk next day. Madame le Claire blushed and dropped the hand.

Mr. Bra.s.sfield adroitly overtook Miss Scarlett, who seemed endeavoring to retreat. He stood by her, chatting lightly, using two voices, a distinct and conversational tone, and one so low as to be for her ear alone.

"Oh, isn't it a crush?" said he. "(_Daise, what's the matter?_) A perfect evening, though. (_Are you running away from me?_) And such delightful people! (_The east room in ten minutes; is it yes?_)"

Miss Scarlett nodded, and Bra.s.sfield moved on. Mrs. Pumphrey, Mrs.

Hunter and Elizabeth Waldron were sipping punch.

"May I have some?" said he. "And, please, Mrs. Pumphrey, may I be presented to the guest of the evening?"

Mrs. Hunter received the introduction with a gasp.

"Is it possible," said she, "that you don't know me? Can the possessor of that voice and face be any one but Florian Amidon?"

"Amidon, Amidon?" he repeated. "Pardon me, but some one else spoke that name to me lately, and I was trying to recall the circ.u.mstances.

It is in every way on my part to be regretted, as the fact has deprived me of the happiness of knowing you, that I am not Mr. Amidon. Am I so like him?"

"Oh, it isn't a matter of resemblance, but of ident.i.ty!" replied Mrs.

Hunter. "Were you never in Hazelhurst, Wisconsin?"

"Never," said Mr. Bra.s.sfield; "but I am beginning to see its beauties as a place of residence. And I hope to know more of this other Dromio before the evening is past."

Mrs. Hunter bowed in acknowledgment of the compliment, and Mr.

Bra.s.sfield took himself gracefully from their presence. In the fashion of one pressed for time, he moved on.

Elizabeth had grown suddenly very grave. What did this conduct of her lover mean? A little while ago he had recognized Mrs. Hunter, at a distance, as an old acquaintance. Now he had audaciously outfaced her, and denied that he ever knew her. Could this be the man she had trusted with her all? Again her doubts and fears and scruples rose--rose instantly in full strength. The new impressions she had lately received of him vanished, and all the subtle suggestions of sordid lightness which the diplomacy of Bra.s.sfield, even, had not entirely kept from her mind, came back with multiplied distinctness.

These transformations of character, these curious duplicities, and now this lie. She must think it over: it impressed her, and she must act.

"Auntie," said she, "let us go."

As down the stairway they came, robed for departure, they were conscious of a hum of excitement running through the a.s.sembly.

"Where is he? The envelope has been opened and the time is up! Where is he?" were the cries. "It's eleven: it's a minute past eleven!

Where's Mr. Bra.s.sfield?"

At this moment, a scream, a soprano scream, high, long-drawn and piercing, the scream of a woman in terror, came echoing from the deserted east room. A body of guests rushed through the portieres, Madame le Claire, pale with fright, at their head, and Elizabeth borne with them, all looking to see what violence had provoked that scream.

They saw Mr. Bra.s.sfield, seated on a sofa in a shadowy corner, holding both Miss Scarlett's hands in his; saw the girl frantically, but in vain, trying to take them from his grasp. He sat like a statue, with his eyes set wide and unwinking like a corpse's, every limb and muscle rigid, his body tense and immovable as a stone image. The sight was terrible. It was as if the living man had been transformed in an instant into a ghastly trap, to catch those soft, warm, pretty hands!

She ceased her efforts to break away, but stood white and almost fainting, and begging hysterically for help.

Madame le Claire leaped forward like a tigress, so light was her step, and pa.s.sed her hand over his eyes, so as to close them. Then, bending her gaze one moment piercingly on his face, she sharply tapped his wrist and uttered the single word, "Wake!"

Florian Amidon opened his eyes. He saw that something extraordinary was taking place, for, in the act of opening his eyes, he had seen Miss Scarlett fall back into the arms of Mr. c.o.x, and knew that she was being conveyed rapidly away.

"It iss now," said the professor, "vun minute past eleven. Te test, you vill atmit, ha.s.s peen a gomplete success. Dis sairgumsdance vill pe noted as exdablishing to a sairtain eggstent an important brinciple, ant ha.s.s peen in effery vay bleasant ant a success: not?"

A laugh or two was heard, then more laughter, then a little hum of reviving talk, and one could observe that the affair was to be pa.s.sed off as one of the mysteries of occultism.

"Well," said Mr. Amidon, "if I have contributed my share to the gaiety of the occasion, I shall beg now to be permitted to depart."

The Waldrons were waiting for their carriage as he came down.

"There will be plenty of a.s.sistance," said the aunty "and we shall not need to detain you."

"Oh, auntie, auntie!" wept Elizabeth, when they were safely alone, "there was a spell upon him, as you say, there in the east room, but the spell that took him there was none of the hypnotist's working! I am shamed, and humiliated, and robbed of all I have to live for! He went there, auntie, of his own accord, _and left me_!"

Mr. Alvord pa.s.sed the thing off more lightly.

"Confound it!" said he, "I wish they were in Hades with their mesmeric stunts! I shan't tell Bra.s.s what happened, for it won't do any good; and the less notice there's taken of it the better. But carrying things before him as he was--it was hard luck to have that occur. Puts him in an undignified position, to say the least. I wish I could think there was nothing more to it!"

XXII

A REVIVAL OF BELSHAZZAR

We are but Sitters at the Table, Guests, Where each drinks more, the more that he protests, Sees, One by One, his Fellows slip from Sight, And then himself beneath the Table rests.

Some walk the Sinuous Crack for Test, and Some Judge by the throbbing Fullness of the Thumb-- But lo! the Fool continues till the Guests Are changed to Pairs of Twins as in they come!

--_Imitations of Immorality_.

Barring the somewhat equivocal episode of the east room at Major Pumphrey's, everything had gone to Mr. Alvord's liking since Mr.

Bra.s.sfield had placed the campaign in his hands. And, as a matter of fact, that affair was so susceptible of plausible explanation, and so fenced about by the sanct.i.ties of private hospitality, that Alvord was rea.s.sured after a day or two had pa.s.sed with no public scandal. Amidon stayed away from headquarters, and Alvord, acting under the unlimited authority granted by Bra.s.sfield, took all responsibility and proceeded most effectively in his own way. Amidon's instructions by telephone, to prepare a statement of disburs.e.m.e.nts to be made public, he regarded as one of Bra.s.sfield's jokes. His suggestion that he meant to stand on a platform of principles seemed equally humorous. To propose such ridiculous things in a perfectly serious way, and laugh at the victim's credulity in "biting" on the hoax, was quite in harmony with the relations among the members of the set to which they belonged, where practical jokes, merciless chaffing and perpetual efforts to get the best of one another had given the group a more than local celebrity.

Having, therefore, no suspicion that his candidate's platform of principles was in the hands of the reporters, and would appear in the next morning's papers, Alvord took his way to the annual supper of the A. O. C. M. feeling that all was well in the world, and that here, at least, his candidate would acquit himself well.