"How long are you going to persist in this foolishness?" she asked at last irritably.

"Who knows?" he laughed. "I think I've struck my proper level. Did you see my posters?" he asked, pointing proudly. "Great, aren't they?"

"They're disgusting," said Olga.

He smiled good-humoredly. "That's too bad. I'm sorry. I thought you'd like 'em."

She only shrugged contemptuously.

"And this is your Valhalla?" she sniffed. "A kingdom of charlatans, and tinsel and clap-trap, of frica.s.sees and onions, and greasy mendicants. Ugh! You're rather overdoing the simple life, Monsieur er--Philidor. You're very ragged and--ah--a trifle soiled."

"Outwardly only, _chre_ Olga," he laughed. "Inwardly my soul is lily-white."

"I'm not so sure of that. No one's soul can be lily-white whose beard is two weeks old. Also, _mon ami_, you look half famished."

"My soul--" he began.

"Your stomach!" she broke in. "Come with me. At least I'm going to see you properly fed."

"You're awfully kind, but--"

"You refuse?"

"I must--besides, you could hardly expect me to appear at your house party in these."

She turned on her heel and walked away from him.

"I hardly expect you ever to do anything that I want you to do."

"But, Olga,--"

Without turning her head she disappeared in the crowd.

CHAPTER XX

THE EMPTY HOUSE

Markham stood for a moment watching the white plume of Olga Tcherny's huge straw hat until it nodded its way out of sight. Then he turned back just in time to note a disturbance of the canvas barrier, from under which, her slouch hat pushed down over her ears, her gray coat hiding her finery, Hermia breathlessly emerged.

"I've never had such a fright since I was born," she laughed nervously.

"She won't come back?"

"I think not."

He helped her to her feet. "It's lucky you weren't in the _roulotte_."

"Not luck--forethought. I knew she'd never be content until she'd seen the inside of that wagon. She expected to find _me_ there."

"You! She saw you--outside?"

"No--I'll take my oath on that--you see, I saw her first. But she expected to find me there just the same. I can't tell you why--a woman guesses these things. I watched her. She's a deep one." She laughed again. "I wouldn't have her find me here for anything in the world."

She suddenly laid her hand on his arm. "Philidor! we must go on--at once."

"But you're tired--"

"I'd be in a worse plight if I were identified--by Olga."

He paused a moment, and then, pointing to the dressing tent, turned swiftly and went out, examining the street between the booths, and then, with a pretence of looking to the fastening of the uprights, carelessly made the round outside the barrier. An atmosphere of peace pervaded the encampment and an odor of cooking food. The crowd had scattered and of Olga, or Olga's party, he saw nothing.

A wail went up in the dressing tent when Hermia announced her decision.

What should Cleofonte do without her? It was she who attracted the crowds--the eloquence of Monsieur Philidor which drew them within the arena. Never in their lives had the Fabiani family enjoyed such success. And now--that the Signor and Signora should go! It was unthinkable--unbelievable! Cleofonte could not permit it. But Yvonne was obdurate. There were reasons--the Signor would understand that--which made this decision inevitable. They must go--at once, as soon as the night had fallen.

The first shock over, Cleofonte clasped his hands over his knees and stared gloomily at the tent flap. If the Signora could have stopped in Alenon but two days more. He, Cleofonte, would have paid ten francs a performance--anything to keep them there. Signora Fabiani moved silently about her tasks, but her eyes were deep with wisdom. What she was thinking, Philidor knew not, nor did Yvonne set the matter straight. It was necessary to go--that was all. It was very sad and made Yvonne unhappy, but she had, unfortunately, no choice in the matter. When it was clearly to be seen that the decision was unalterable, Cleofonte jingled his bag of coppers and sighed, Luigi scowled at vacancy and Stella unreservedly wept.

"We could have made two thousand francs," muttered Cleofonte.

"More than that," said Luigi the silent, "three thousand."

"There will be no longer pleasure in the _d?carca.s.se_ when the music ceases to play," sobbed Stella.

Yvonne put her arms around the child and kissed her gently.

"We shall meet again--soon, _cara mia_."

"I know--in Heaven," cried Stella, refusing to be comforted.

"We shall find you again, child, never fear," said Yvonne.

Stella's eyes brightened. "Then you _will_ return?"

Yvonne patted her cheek softly.

"Have I not said I will see you again, _carissima_?" she finished.

After supper Philidor went forth and bought supplies which were packed securely upon Clarissa, together with Philidor's knapsack and other personal belongings. Hermia changed her gay apparel for a shirtwaist and dark skirt, and when dusk fell, after a reconnaissance by Luigi, the back of the canvas barrier was raised and the trio quietly departed and were swallowed up in the shadows of a back street.

The weather so far still favored them, but the night was murky and high overhead the clouds were flying fast. Their road, and they chose the first one which led them forth of the town, wound up between a row of hedges and pollard trees to an eminence form which, when they paused for breath, they had a view of the lights of the town. The _mange_ whirled and the barrel organ still wheezed its thin thread of sound across the still air. The _Homme Sauvage_ was roaring again and the deep voice of Cleofonte, their late partner and companion, was heard at intervals in his familiar plaint. There was a fascination in the lights and in the medley of noises--each of which had come to possess an interest and a personality--for behind them were the pale road and the inhospitable darkness.

"It seems a pity to leave them," said Hermia, thinking of Stella, "when we were doing so well. I shall regret the _roulotte_."

John Markham smiled.

"It's time we were moving, then," he said. "Your true vagabond wants no roots--even in a _roulotte_--nor regrets anything."

"I can't forgive Olga for this. I consider her most intrusive, impertinent--"

Markham had laid warning fingers upon her arm. A moment ago on the hill below them a man's figure had been in silhouette against the lights. At the sound of their voices it had suddenly disappeared.

They stood in silence for a moment, watching, but the figure did not reappear.