ess
of their serried faces. Behind him was the warm glow of the room,
shining through the glass doors. But he did not dare go in as yet; it
was necessary first to control the little flecks of foam that despite
his endeavor still wet his lips. For you see," said the voice, and in
the darkness its accents took on a slow, rhythmical sombreness, like the
swish of a sword in a shuttered room, "this was far worse than the
leaves. For, after all, the dead are only the dead, but to the living
there is no end."

At least a minute--fully a minute--must have passed, a minute in which
the brown shadows of the library, held back for now this long while by
the weaving magic of the voice, stepped forward once more into their
places, while Mr. Vandusen waited for the voice to continue. Then the
spell broke like a shattered globe, and, with a sudden realization of
many things, he leaned forward and felt the chair to the right of him.
There was no one there. He paused with his hand still on the leather
seat. "Would you mind telling me," he asked, and he found that he was
speaking with some effort and with great precision, "if any of you know
the gentleman who has just left?"

"Left?" said Tomlinson sharply.

"Yes--left."

Tomlinson's voice was incredulous. "But he couldn't have," he insisted.
"From where I am sitting I would have seen him as he reached the door.
Although, if he really is gone, I can say, thank the Lord, that I think
he's a faker."

On silent feet young Wheeler had departed for the hall. Now he returned.
"It may interest you to know," he said, "that I have just interviewed
the doorman and the boy who is stationed at the steps leading back, and
they both say no one has come in or out in the last half-hour."

Suddenly his careful voice rose to a high note. "What the devil--!" he
sputtered. He strode over to the electric switch. "For Heaven's sake,
let's have some light," he said. "Why do we always insist upon sitting
in this confounded darkness?"

THE WEDDING JEST[9]

[Note 9: Copyright, 1919, by The Century Company. Copyright, 1920,
by James Branch Cabell.]

BY JAMES BRANCH CABELL

From _The Century_

I. CONCERNING SEVERAL COMPACTS

It is a tale which they narrate in Poictesme, telling how love began
between Florian de Puysange and Adelaide de la Foret. They tell also how
young Florian had earlier fancied other women for one reason or another;
but that this, he knew, was the great love of his life,