Part 75 (2/2)

A dead king blocks my door!'

'If thy halls and walls be red, Shall Samarcand ask more?

Or my song shall cleanse thy house or my heart's blood foul thy floor!'

”'Now hast thou conquered me!

Humbly thy captive, I.

My soul escapes to thee; My body here must lie; Ride!--with thy song, and my soul in thy arms; and let me die.'”

Sengoun, still playing, flung over his shoulder:

”A Tartar song from the Turcoman. I borrowed it and put new clothes on it. Nice, isn't it?”

”Enchanting!” replied Neeland, laughing in spite of himself.

Rue Carew, with her snowy shoulders and red-gold hair, came drifting in, consigning them to their seats with a gesture, and giving them to understand that she had come to hear the singing.

So Sengoun continued his sketchy, haphazard recital, waving his cigarette now and then for emphasis, and conversing frequently over his shoulder while Rue Carew leaned on the piano and gravely watched his nimble fingers alternately punish and caress the keyboard.

After a little while the Princess Mistchenka came in saying that she had letters to write. They conversed, however, for nearly an hour before she rose, and Captain Sengoun gracefully accepted his _conge_.

”I'll walk with you, if you like,” suggested Neeland.

”With pleasure, my dear fellow! The night is beautiful, and I am just beginning to wake up.”

”Ask Marotte to give you a key, then,” suggested the Princess, going.

At the foot of the stairs, however, she paused to exchange a few words with Captain Sengoun in a low voice; and Neeland, returning with his latchkey, went over to where Rue stood by the lamplit table absently looking over an evening paper.

As he came up beside her, the girl lifted her beautiful, golden-grey eyes.

”Are you going out?”

”Yes, I thought I'd walk a bit with Captain Sengoun.”

”It's rather a long distance to the Russian Emba.s.sy. Besides----” She hesitated, and he waited. She glanced absently over the paper for a moment, then, not raising her eyes: ”I'm--I--the theft of that box today--perhaps my nerves have suffered a little--but do you think it quite prudent for you to go out alone at night?”

”Why, I am going out with Captain Sengoun!” he said, surprised at her troubled face.

”But you will have to return alone.”

He laughed, but they both had flushed a little.

Had it been any other woman in the world, he had not hesitated gaily to challenge the shy and charming solicitude expressed in his behalf--make of it his capital, his argument to force that pretty duel to which one day, all youth is destined.

He found himself now without a word to say, nor daring to entertain any a.s.sumption concerning the words she had uttered.

Dumb, awkward, afraid, he became conscious that something in this young girl had silenced within him any inclination to gay effrontery, any talent for casual gallantry. Her lifted eyes, with their clear, half shy regard, had killed all fluency of tongue in him--slain utterly that light good-humour with which he had encountered women heretofore.

He said:

”I hadn't thought myself in any danger whatever. Is there any reason for me to expect further trouble?”

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