shock which could disturb Lorimer's present mood
would be sufficient to destroy his whole mental balance past any
possibility of restoration. Thayer's error in judgment promptly
furnished the shock.

Lorimer had turned again to the butler at the back of his chair.

"Fill thish up," he demanded, as he pointed to his glass.

With a swift gesture, Thayer caught the man's attention, and shook his
head. The man hesitated, halting between two masters. The one paid him
his wages; the other commanded his entire respect, and it was not easy
for him to choose the one whom he should obey.

"Fill thish up, I shay!" Lorimer's voice was thicker, his accent
imperious.

Swiftly the old butler glanced at Thayer as if for instructions, and
Thayer again shook his head. This time, Lorimer saw the signal. The next
instant, his empty glass was flying straight in the direction of
Thayer's face.

There was a frightened outcry from the women; but Thayer swerved
slightly to one side, and the glass crashed harmlessly against the
mantel. There followed the tinkle of the falling pieces, then a
stillness so profound that from one end to the other of the long room
Lorimer's heavy breathing was distinctly audible. The impending crisis
seemed to paralyze the guests. Those who had risen, stood motionless in
their places; the others made no effort to rise. They remained there
together, silent, passive, tense, with Lorimer facing them all, like a
savage beast at bay.

[Illustration: "Beatrix still sat at the disordered table"]

The interval, seemingly so endless, lasted only for a moment. Then, with
a beast-like snarl, Lorimer sprang up, overturning his chair, and hurled
himself straight upon Thayer. Strong as he was, Thayer tottered before
the blow, for the strength of Lorimer just then was far beyond the
human. Drink-crazed and brutalized, he had the fierce power of a
maddened brute. There was a swift, sharp struggle, broken by strange,
inarticulate cries, making the women hide their faces and cram their
fingers into their ears to shut out sight and sound. Then the struggle
grew still again, and they heard Thayer's steady voice saying,--

"I think he is quiet now. Dane, will you help me to carry him to his
room?"

One by one, the terrified guests slank away. There were no good-nights
scarcely a whispered word in the dressing-rooms upstairs. At length,
they were all gone, and the house was still. The lights from the open
windows glared out a