The Moonlit Way: A Novel Read online

  I

  A SHADOW DANCE

  Three years later Destiny still wore a rosy face for Nihla Quellen.And, for a young American of whom Nihla had never even heard, Destinystill remained the laughing jade he had always known, beckoning himever nearer, with the coquettish promise of her curved forefinger, tofame and wealth immeasurable.

  * * * * *

  Seated now on a moonlit lawn, before his sketching easel, thisoptimistic young man, whose name was Barres, continued to observe themovements of a dim white figure which had emerged from the villaopposite, and was now stealing toward him across the dew-drenchedgrass.

  When the white figure was quite near it halted, holding up filmyskirts and peering intently at him.

  "May one look?" she inquired, in that now celebrated voice of hers,through which ever seemed to sound a hint of hidden laughter.

  "Certainly," he replied, rising from his folding camp stool.

  She tiptoed over the wet grass, came up beside him, gazed down at thecanvas on his easel.

  "Can you really see to paint? Is the moon bright enough?" she asked.

  "Yes. But one has to be familiar with one's palette."

  "Oh. You seem to know yours quite perfectly, monsieur."

  "Enough to mix colours properly."

  "I didn't realise that painters ever actually painted pictures bymoonlight."

  "It's a sort of hit or miss business, but the notes made areinteresting," he explained.

  "What do you do with these moonlight studies?"

  "Use them as notes in the studio when a moonlight picture is to bepainted."

  "Are you then a realist, monsieur?"

  "As much of a realist as anybody with imagination can be," he replied,smiling at her charming, moonlit face.

  "I understand. Realism is merely honesty plus the imagination of theindividual."

  "A delightful _mot_, madam----"

  "Mademoiselle," she corrected him demurely. "Are you English?"

  "American."

  "Oh. Then may I venture to converse with you in English?" She said itin exquisite English, entirely without accent.

  "You _are_ English!" he exclaimed under his breath.

  "No ... I don't know what I am.... Isn't it charming out here? Whatparticular view are you painting?"

  "The Seine, yonder."

  She bent daintily over his sketch, holding up the skirts of herball-gown.

  "Your sketch isn't very far advanced, is it?" she inquired seriously.

  "Not very," he smiled.

  They stood there together in silence for a while, looking out overthe moonlit river to the misty, tree-covered heights.

  Through lighted rows of open windows in the elaborate little villaacross the lawn came lively music and the distant noise of animatedvoices.

  "Do you know," he ventured smilingly, "that your skirts and slippersare soaking wet?"

  "I don't care. Isn't this June night heavenly?"

  She glanced across at the lighted house. "It's so hot and noisy inthere; one dances only with discomfort. A distaste for it all sent meout on the terrace. Then I walked on the lawn. Then I beheld you!...Am I interrupting your work, monsieur? I suppose I am." She looked upat him naively.

  He said something polite. An odd sense of having seen her somewherepossessed him now. From the distant house came the noisy Americanmusic of a two-step. With charming grace, still inspecting him out ofher dark eyes, the girl began to move her pretty feet in rhythm withthe music.

  "Shall we?" she inquired mischievously.... "Unless you are toobusy----"

  The next moment they were dancing together there on the wet lawn,under the high lustre of the moon, her fresh young face and fragrantfigure close to his.

  During their second dance she said serenely:

  "They'll raise the dickens if I stay here any longer. Do you know theComte d'Eblis?"

  "The Senator? The numismatist?"

  "Yes."

  "No, I don't know him. I am only a Latin Quarter student."

  "Well, he is giving that party. He is giving it for me--in my honour.That is his villa. And I"--she laughed--"am going to marryhim--_perhaps_! Isn't this a delightful escapade of mine?"

  "Isn't it rather an indiscreet one?" he asked smilingly.

  "Frightfully. But I like it. How did you happen to pitch your easel onhis lawn?"

  "The river and the hills--their composition appealed to me from here.It is the best view of the Seine."

  "Are you glad you came?"

  They both laughed at the mischievous question.

  * * * * *

  During their third dance she became a little apprehensive and keptlooking over her shoulder toward the house.

  "There's a man expected there," she whispered, "Ferez Bey. He's assoft-footed as a cat and he always prowls in my vicinity. At times italmost seems to me as though he were slyly watching me--as though hewere employed to keep an eye on me."

  "A Turk?"

  "Eurasian.... I wonder what they think of my absence? Alexandre--theComte d'Eblis--won't like it."

  "Had you better go?"

  "Yes; I ought to, but I won't.... Wait a moment!" She disengagedherself from his arms. "Hide your easel and colour-box in theshrubbery, in case anybody comes to look for me."

  She helped him strap up and fasten the telescope-easel; they placedthe paraphernalia behind the blossoming screen of syringa. Then,coming together, she gave herself to him again, nestling between hisarms with a little laugh; and they fell into step once more with thedistant dance-music. Over the grass their united shadows glided,swaying, gracefully interlocked--moon-born phantoms which doggedtheir light young feet....

  * * * * *

  A man came out on the stone terrace under the Chinese lanterns. Whenthey saw him they hastily backed into the obscurity of the shrubbery.

  "Nihla!" he called, and his heavy voice was vibrant with irritationand impatience.

  He was a big man. He walked with a bulky, awkward gait--a few pacesonly, out across the terrace.

  "Nihla!" he bawled hoarsely.

  Then two other men and a woman appeared on the terrace where thelanterns were strung. The woman called aloud in the darkness:

  "Nihla! Nihla! Where are you, little devil?" Then she and the two menwith her went indoors, laughing and skylarking, leaving the bulky manthere alone.

  The young fellow in the shrubbery felt the girl's hand tighten on hiscoat sleeve, felt her slender body quiver with stifled laughter. Thedesire to laugh seized him, too; and they clung there together,choking back their mirth while the big man who had first appearedwaddled out across the lawn toward the shrubbery, shouting:

  "Nihla! Where are you then?" He came quite close to where they stood,then turned, shouted once or twice and presently disappeared acrossthe lawn toward a walled garden. Later, several other people came outon the terrace, calling, "Nihla, Nihla," and then went indoors,laughing boisterously.

  The young fellow and the girl beside him were now quite weak andtrembling with suppressed mirth.

  * * * * *

  They had not dared venture out on the lawn, although dance music hadbegun again.

  "Is it your name they called?" he asked, his eyes very intent upon herface.

  "Yes, Nihla."

  "I recognise you now," he said, with a little thrill of wonder.

  "I suppose so," she replied with amiable indifference. "Everybodyknows me."

  She did not ask his name; he did not offer to enlighten her. Whatdifference, after all, could the name of an American student make tothe idol of Europe, Nihla Quellen?

  "I'm in a mess," she remarked presently. "He will be quite furiouswith me. It is going to be most disagreeable for me to go back intothat house. He has really an atrocious temper when made ridiculous."

  "I'm awfully sorry," he said, sobered by her seriousness.

  She laughed:

  "Oh, pouf! I
really don't care. But perhaps you had better leave menow. I've spoiled your moonlight picture, haven't I?"

  "But think what you have given me to make amends!" he replied.

  She turned and caught his hands in hers with adorable impulsiveness:

  "You're a sweet boy--do you know it! We've had a heavenly time,haven't we? Do you really think you ought to go--so soon?"

  "Don't you think so, Nihla?"

  "I don't want you to go. Anyway, there's a train every two hours----"

  "I've a canoe down by the landing. I shall paddle back as I came----"

  "A canoe!" she exclaimed, enchanted. "Will you take me with you?"

  "To Paris?"

  "Of course! Will you?"

  "In your ball-gown?"

  "I'd adore it! Will you?"

  "That is an absolutely crazy suggestion," he said.

  "I know it. The world is only a big asylum. There's a path to theriver behind these bushes. Quick--pick up your painting traps----"

  "But, Nihla, dear----"

  "Oh, please! I'm dying to run away with you!"

  "To Paris?" he demanded, still incredulous that the girl really meantit.

  "Of course! You can get a taxi at the Pont-au-Change and take me home.Will you?"

  "It would be wonderful, of course----"

  "It will be paradise!" she exclaimed, slipping her hand into his."Now, let us run like the dickens!"

  In the uncertain moonlight, filtering through the shrubbery, theyfound a hidden path to the river; and they took it together, lightly,swiftly, speeding down the slope, all breathless with laughter, alongthe moonlit way.

  * * * * *

  In the suburban villa of the Comte d'Eblis a wine-flushed and verynoisy company danced on, supped at midnight, continued the revel intothe starlit morning hours. The place was a jungle of confetti.

  Their host, restless, mortified, angry, perplexed by turns, wasbecoming obsessed at length with dull premonitions and vaguer alarms.

  He waddled out to the lawn several times, still wearing his fancy giltand tissue cap, and called:

  "Nihla! Damnation! Answer me, you little fool!"

  He went down to the river, where the gaily painted row-boats and puntslay, and scanned the silvered flood, tortured by indefiniteapprehensions. About dawn he started toward the weed-grown, slipperyriver-stairs for the last time, still crowned with his tinsel cap; andthere in the darkness he found his aged boat-man, fishing for gudgeonwith a four-cornered net suspended to the end of a bamboo pole.

  "Have you see anything of Mademoiselle Nihla?" he demanded, in aheavy, unsteady voice, tremulous with indefinable fears.

  "Monsieur le Comte, Mademoiselle Quellen went out in a canoe with ayoung gentleman."

  "W-what is that you tell me!" faltered the Comte d'Eblis, turning greyin the face.

  "Last night, about ten o'clock, M'sieu le Comte. I was out in themoonlight fishing for eels. She came down to the shore--took a canoeyonder by the willows. The young man had a double-bladed paddle. Theywere singing."

  "They--they have not returned?"

  "No, M'sieu le Comte----"

  "Who was the--man?"

  "I could not see----"

  "Very well." He turned and looked down the dusky river out oflight-coloured, murderous eyes. Then, always awkward in his gait, heretraced his steps to the house. There a servant accosted him on theterrace:

  "The telephone, if Monsieur le Comte pleases----"

  "Who is calling?" he demanded with a flare of fury.

  "Paris, if it pleases Monsieur le Comte."

  The Count d'Eblis went to his own quarters, seated himself, and pickedup the receiver:

  "Who is it?" he asked thickly.

  "Max Freund."

  "What has h-happened?" he stammered in sudden terror.

  Over the wire came the distant reply, perfectly clear and distinct:

  "Ferez Bey was arrested in his own house at dinner last evening, andwas immediately conducted to the frontier, escorted by Governmentdetectives.... Is Nihla with you?"

  The Count's teeth were chattering now. He managed to say:

  "No, I don't know where she is. She was dancing. Then, all at once,she was gone. Of what was Colonel Ferez suspected?"

  "I don't know. But perhaps we might guess."

  "Are _you_ followed?"

  "Yes."

  "By--by whom?"

  "By Souchez.... Good-bye, if I don't see you. I join Ferez. And lookout for Nihla. She'll trick you yet!"

  The Count d'Eblis called:

  "Wait, for God's sake, Max!"--listened; called again in vain. "Theone-eyed rabbit!" he panted, breathing hard and irregularly. His largehand shook as he replaced the instrument. He sat there as thoughparalysed, for a moment or two. Mechanically he removed his tinsel capand thrust it into the pocket of his evening coat. Suddenly the dullhue of anger dyed neck, ears and temple:

  "By God!" he gasped. "What is that she-devil trying to do to me? Whathas she _done_!"

  After another moment of staring fixedly at nothing, he opened thetable drawer, picked up a pistol and poked it into his breast pocket.

  Then he rose, heavily, and stood looking out of the window at thepaling east, his pendulous under lip aquiver.