Tait snapped: "I accept."

Persis was frantic at this outcome of her pa.s.sion. "No, no! Oh, don't!

I'd rather die than be the cause of a breach between you two." She clutched Tait's arm. "Don't listen to him!"

Forbes seized her other hand. "I'll not give you up again. You belong to me."

"You are wrecking my trust in humanity," Tait groaned; then his wrath blazed again. "But I'll break up this intrigue at any cost, even if I have to tell Enslee."

Persis stared at him in a panic. "You couldn't do that."

Tait had made one step to the door. He hung irresolute before the loathsome office of the tattle-tale. "What in the name of G.o.d is a man to do? If I tell your husband I am a contemptible cad. If I don't tell him I am your accomplice." He pondered deeply, and chose between the evils. "Well, I'd rather have you two think me a cad than to be a criminal and a coward." He took another step to the door.

Persis clung to his sleeve. "Oh, I implore you!"

He shook her loose. "I am going to tell your husband what I saw."

And then the man most deeply concerned appeared in the doorway. Willie Enslee stumbled at the sill and spoke with a blur: "Pershish, itsh time we were dresshing for d-dinner."

Tait looked at him in disgust, then at Persis and Forbes, who stood cowering with suspense. The old man shivered in an agony of decision.

"Mr. Enslee, I must tell you--"

He clapped his hand to his heart, and strangled at the words: "I must tell you--I must tell you--good night!"

He could not force his tongue to the task. The fierce effort broke him.

He wavered. A sudden languor invaded him. His muscles turned to sand. He crumbled in a heap.

Forbes ran to him, and with all difficulty heaved the limp huge frame into a chair that Persis pushed forward. He straightened the arms that flopped like a scarecrow's, and steadied the great leonine head that rolled drunkenly on the immense shoulders. And he spoke to Enslee as if he were a servant.

"Run for a doctor--quick--you fool!"

Willie staggered away, almost sobered with fright. Persis stood wringing her hands. Through her brain ran the music of the tango they were playing:

At the devil's ball, at the devil's ball, Dancing with the devil--oh, the little devil!

Dancing at the devil's ball.

She ran to the door like a fury and shrieked: "Stop that music! For G.o.d's sake, stop that music!"

The music ended in shreds of discord. The dancers paused in puppet att.i.tudes, then turned like a huddle of curious cattle and drifted toward the door. Persis returned to Forbes' side, and, bending close, heard the old man speaking thickly as his hands fluttered feebly about Forbes' arm.

"Harvey--I'm so--sor-ry for you--and for her. Take care of--my poor--ch-child, won't you?"

"Yes, yes!" Forbes whispered.

"And--and Harvey--I wanted to--to die in A-mer-America. Take me b-back and bury me--at home, won't you?"

"Yes, yes!"

The soft hands glided along Forbes' arm in a fumbling caress.

"Th-tha.s.s--a goo' boy. You've been a--a--a--a son to me. Har-har-vey.

Goo'-b-b--Good-by!"

Forbes bent down and pressed his lips to the old man's forehead.

Liveried servants with wan faces glided through the crowd, and, lifting the chair, struggled from the room with its great burden, the old head wagging, the lips laboring at the messages they could not accomplish.

Forbes followed the chair as if it were already the coffin of his ideal among men. Persis waited in a trance, shaken now and then with sudden onsets of ague, but otherwise motionless, her whole soul pensive. Willie hung about her, whining:

"I say, old girl, let's be getting home--I feel all creepy. Awfully unfortunate, wasn't it? Let's be getting home. Rotten luck for the Amba.s.sador. Nice old boy, too. Let's be getting home."

Persis did not answer. By and by Willie went in search of his coat and her furs. The other guests dispersed. Outside there was a m.u.f.fled hubbub of cha.s.seurs calling carriages and cars, of horns squawking, of doors slammed.

Winifred could be heard sobbing in the room where the musicians were putting up their violins and slinking out. Mrs. Mather Edgec.u.mbe was audible in the stillness telephoning the alarm to the Emba.s.sy.

Persis stood fixed, still staring where Forbes had gone. Suddenly her face lighted up. Forbes wandered back all bewildered. She forced her hand on him, and he took it idly. It was some time before he could speak that ultimate word "Dead!"

Persis wrung his hand and sighed:

"Poor old fellow! I'm sorry he hated me so bitterly. He said he'd fight against my happiness till he died, and now--"

Forbes did not hear her. He was thinking only of the foster-father he had lost. He mumbled, with dark dejection:

"I'm alone now--alone!"

But Persis' face was overswept with a shaft of light. Glancing over her shoulder, and seeing that no one was near their door, she moved closer to Forbes, laid her other hand on his, and spoke with all meekness and with a questioning appeal.

"Not alone, Harvey? I'm here."

He opened his clenched eyes a little and met her upward gaze. He closed his eyes again against her. She waited. Only a moment, and then with a sudden frenzy he gripped her in a mad embrace and smote her lips with his. She closed her eyes in ecstasy.

Immediately he started back from her in horror, groaning: "What am I thinking? And he's just dead!"

"He's dead, but I live!" She meant only to soothe him, but through her low voice an exultance broke like a bugle of triumph, and she whispered again: "I live! I live!"

So the eyes of Jael must have widened when she had driven the nail through the temples of Sisera.

In her victory she remembered discretion and glided aside from Forbes just before Willie entered the room with a servant carrying Persis'

furs.

"Come along, Persis," Willie complained; "we can't stay here all night."

"I'm quite ready," she answered, with bridal gentleness. Then, "Good-by, Captain Forbes; so glad to have seen you again. Good-by."

She offered her hand formally, and he took it formally, dumbly. As it slipped warmly, reluctantly from his grasp it was replaced by the clammy, bony fingers of Willie, who was doing his best in the gentle art of consolation:

"Awfully sorry, old chap. These things have got to happen, though, haven't they? Don't take it too hard, and if you get too blue come round and let us try to cheer you up a bit. We're at the Meurice."

"Thank you," said Forbes. He bowed and did not raise his eyes for fear of what might be smoldering in the eyes of Persis.