Part 30 (1/2)
”Blood!” she cried; ”blood? where-where?”
”On your lips-around the mouth-”
The coquette vanished-the horror of it all flashed back upon her:-Lotzen's sybaritic leer-his easy confidence of a.s.sured success-the touch of his loathsome hand to her face-the sickening sensation as her teeth cut through his flesh and sc.r.a.ped the bones beneath-with a cry of disgust she sprang up, swayed unsteadily, and would have fallen had not Moore caught her.
”Water!” she implored, ”water!” rubbing her lips frantically with her handkerchief-”water, oh, water!”
Amazed-mystified-alarmed, he stood an instant irresolute-then swinging her up, he bore her to where, near the sun-dial, a fountain played and splashed among the giant ferns. As they reached there, the nervous tumult subsided as quickly as it came, and she slipped swiftly out of his arms, and knelt beside the fountain, the spray powdering her hair with rainbow dust. And when she had bathed her face free of the blood-stain-though she could not wash away the red of her own embarra.s.sment-she ventured to look at him.
He met her with a smile, that showed only sharp concern and tenderest sympathy.
”My child,” he said, taking her hand, in the most gentle deference, and holding it in both of his, ”tell me what has unstrung you so completely-you who are always merry and serene.”
She gently freed her hand, and, gathering up the trailing ends of her skirt, turned toward the Palace.
”If I tell you,” she said, ”promise me that you won't make a scene nor try to punish him.”
”Him!” he exclaimed, stopping short, ”him! G.o.d in Heaven, was it that devil, Lotzen?”-he seized her arm-”where is he-where is he?”
She smiled at him very sweetly, loving the anger that blazed his face.
”I'll tell you nothing,” she answered, ”so long as you are in that humor-your promise first.”
”No-no-I promised and forbore the other day; but now, with that”-sweeping his hand at gown and hair-”I'll forbear no longer.”
She moved on.
”Come, Elise, who was it?”
She gave him another smile, but shook her head.
”Was it Lotzen-tell me, was it?”
Again the smile, and the motion of refusal.
”Very well, if you won't, I'll find out for myself.”
”You cannot-the man won't tell-and no one saw it.”
He laughed with quiet menace.
”I'll find him,” he said; ”I'll find him.”
Quick fear seized her. He would succeed, she knew; and then, what would he do! Something, doubtless, to try to force the Duke to fight; and which would result only in his own disgrace and in being driven from the country. He must not suffer for her misfortune-and Dornlitz, without her dear Irishman, would be impossible; and she was not yet quite ready to go with him. She had told him something-as much as she might with proper reserve-of Lotzen's behavior that other morning; and it had been difficult enough to restrain him then. Now, with the dishevelled hair, and torn gown, and blood on her face, only his own word would hold him.
”Promise me, Ralph, promise me,” she implored; ”there is no reason for punishment-see,” holding out her hand, ”here is the only place he touched me-only on the wrist-I swear it, Ralph-”
He took the hand, and looked at the soft, blue-veined flesh, chafed and abraded with the pinch of iron fingers; and again the rage of hate swept him, and he put the hand down sharply and turned away his head, unwilling that she should see his face while pa.s.sion marked it.
She touched his arm, almost timidly.