But there beside him clinging to his arm was Tony Holiday aquiver with grief for this same cousin. He saw that there were tears on her cheeks, tears that the icy wind turned instantly to frosted silver. And suddenly a new power was invoked--the power of love.

"Tony, darling, don't cry," he beseeched. "I--can't stand it. He--he won't die."

And then and there a miracle took place. Alan Ma.s.sey who had never prayed in his life was praying to some G.o.d, somewhere to save John Ma.s.sey for Tony because she loved him and his dying would hurt her. Tony must not be hurt. Any G.o.d could see that. It must not be permitted.

Tony put up her hand and brushed away the frosted silver drops.

"No, he isn't going to die. I'm not going to let him. I'm going to Mexico to save him."

Alan stopped short, pulling her to a halt beside him.

"Tony, you can't," he gasped, too astonished for a moment even to be angry.

"I can and I am going to," she defied him.

"But my dear, I tell you, you can't. It would be madness. Your uncle wouldn't let you. I won't let you."

"You can't stop me. n.o.body can stop me. I'm going. d.i.c.k shan't die alone.

He shan't."

"Tony, do you love him?"

"I don't know. I don't want to talk about love--your kind. I do love him one way with all my heart. I wish it were the way I love you. I'd go down and marry him if I did. Maybe I'll marry him anyway. I would in a minute if it would save him."

"Tony!" Alan's face was dead white, his green eyes savage. "You promised to stick to me through everything. Where is your Holiday honor that you can talk like that about marrying another man?" Maddened, he branished his words like whips, caring little whether they hurt or not.

"I can't help it, Alan. I am sorry if I am hurting you. But I can't think about anybody but d.i.c.k just now."

"Forgive me, sweetheart. I know you didn't mean it, what you said about marrying him and you didn't mean it about going to Mexico. You know you can't. It is no place for a woman like you."

"If d.i.c.k is there dying, it _is_ the place for me. I love you, Alan. But there are some things that go even deeper, things that have their very roots in me, the things that belong to the Hill. And d.i.c.k is a very big part of them, sometimes I think he is the biggest part of all. I have to go to him. Please don't try to stop me. It will only make us both unhappy if you try."

A bitter blast struck their faces with the force of a blow. Tony shivered.

"Let's go back. I'm cold--so dreadfully cold," she moaned clinging to his arm.

They turned in silence. There was nothing to say. The sunset glory had faded now. Only a pale, cold mauve tint was left where the flame had blazed. A star or two had come out. The river flowed sinister black, showing white humps of foam here and there.

At the Hostelry Jean Lambert met them in the hall.

"Tony, where have you been? We have been trying everywhere to locate you.

Cecilia died this afternoon. You have to take Miss Clay's place tonight."

Tony's face went white. She leaned against the wall trembling.

"I forgot--I forgot about the play. I can't go to Mexico. Oh, what shall I do? What shall I do?"

CHAPTER x.x.xII

DWELLERS IN DREAMS

The last curtain had gone down on the "End of the Rainbow" and Tony Holiday had made an undeniable hit, caught the popular fancy by her young charm and vivid personality and fresh talents to such a degree that for the moment at least even its idol of many seasons, Carol Clay, was forgotten. The new arriving star filled the whole firmament. Broadway was ready to worship at a new shrine.

But Broadway did not know that there were two Tony Holidays that night, the happy Tony who had taken its fickle, composite heart by storm and the other Tony half distracted by grief and trapped bewilderment. Tony had willed to exile that second self before she stepped out behind the foot lights. She knew if she did not she never could play Madge as Madge had the right to be played. For her own sake, for Max Hempel's sake because he believed in her, for Carol Clay's sake because Tony loved her, she meant to forget everything but Madge for those few hours. Later she would remember that d.i.c.k was dying in Mexico, that she had hurt Alan cruelly that afternoon, that she had a sad and vexed problem to solve to which there seemed no solution. These things must wait. And they had waited but they came crowding back upon her the moment the play was over and she saw Alan waiting for her in the little room off the wings.

He rose to meet her and oblivious of curious eyes about them drew her into his arms and kissed her. And Tony utterly miserable in a daze of conflicting emotions nestled in his embrace unresisting for a second, not caring any more than Alan himself what any one saw or thought upon seeing.

"You were wonderful, belovedest," he whispered. "I never saw them go madder over anybody, not even Carol herself."

Tony glowed all over at his praise and begged that they might drive a little in the park before they went home. She had to think. She couldn't think in the Hostelry. It stifled her. Nothing loath Alan acquiesced, hailed a cab and gave the necessary orders. For a moment they rode in silence Tony relaxing for the first time in many hours in the comfort of her lover's presence, his arm around her. Things were hard, terribly hard but you could not feel utterly disconsolate when the man you loved best in all the world was there right beside you looking at you with eyes that told you how much you were beloved in return.

"Tony, dear, I am going to surprise you," he said suddenly breaking the silence. "I have decided to go to Mexico."

"To go to Mexico! Alan! Why?"

Tony drew away from her companion to study his face, with amazement on her own.

"To find Carson and look after him. Why else?"

"But your exhibition? You can't go away now, Alan, even if I would let you go to d.i.c.k that way."

"Oh, yes I can. The arrangements are all made. Van Slyke can handle the last stages of the thing far better than I can. I loathe hanging round and hearing the fools rant about my stuff and wonder what the devil I meant by this or that or if I didn't mean anything. I am infinitely better off three thousand miles away."

"But even so--I don't want to hurt you or act as if I didn't appreciate what you are offering to do--but you hate d.i.c.k. I don't see how you could help him."

"I don't hate him any more, Tony. At least I don't think I do. At any rate whether I do or don't won't make the slightest bit of difference. I shall look after him as well as your uncle or your brothers would--better perhaps because I know Mexico well and how to get things done down there.

I know how to get things done in most places."

"Oh, I know. I have often thought you must have magic at your command the way people fly to do your bidding. It is startling but it is awfully convenient."

"Money magic mostly," he retorted grimly.

"Partly, not mostly. You are a born potentate. You must have been a sultan or a pashaw or something in some previous incarnation. I don't care what you are if you will find d.i.c.k and see that he gets well. Alan, don't you think--couldn't I--wouldn't it be better--if I went too?"

There was a sudden gleam in Alan's eyes. The hour was his. He could take advantage of the situation, of the girl's anxiety for his cousin, her love for himself while it was at high tide as it was at this over stimulated hour of excitement. He could marry her. And once the rite was spoken--not John Ma.s.sey--not all Holiday Hill combined could take her from him. She would be his and his alone to the end. Tony was ripe for madness to-night, overwrought, ready to take any wild leap in the dark with him. He could make her his. He felt the intoxicating truth quiver in the touch of her hand, read it in her eager, dark eyes lifted to his for his answer.

Alan Ma.s.sey was unused to putting away temptation but this, perhaps the biggest and blackest that had ever a.s.sailed him he put by.

"No, dear I'll go alone," he said. "You will just have to trust me, Tony.

I swear I'll do everything in the world that can be done for Carson. Let us have just one dance though. I should like it to remember--in Mexico."

Tony hesitated. It was very late. The Hostelry would ill approve of her going anywhere to dance at such an hour. It ill approved of Alan Ma.s.sey any way. Still--

"I am going to-morrow. It is our last chance," he pleaded. "Just one dance, _carissima_. It may have to last--a long, long time."