Part 76 (1/2)

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: ”Pers.h.i.+sh, itsh time we were dress.h.i.+ng for d-dinner.”

Tait looked at him in disgust, then at Persis and Forbes, who stood cowering with suspense. The old man s.h.i.+vered 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.