orchids in a sort of halo of radiance.

When the dinner had progressed from salmon to roast, and the
conversation had done the same thing--from fish to scandal--the
yellow gown turned to me. "We have been awfully good, haven't we, Mr.
Blakeley?" she asked. "Although I am crazy to hear, I have not said
'wreck' once. I'm sure you must feel like the survivor of Waterloo, or
something of the sort."

"If you want me to tell you about the wreck," I said, glancing across
the table, "I'm sorry to be disappointing, but I don't remember
anything."

"You are fortunate to be able to forget it." It was the first word Miss
West had spoken directly to me, and it went to my head.

"There are some things I have not forgotten," I said, over the candles.
"I recall coming to myself some time after, and that a girl, a beautiful
girl--"

"Ah!" said the lady in yellow, leaning forward breathlessly. Miss West
was staring at me coldly, but, once started, I had to stumble on.

"That a girl was trying to rouse me, and that she told me I had been on
fire twice already." A shudder went around the table.

"But surely that isn't the end of the story," Mrs. Dallas put in
aggrievedly. "Why, that's the most tantalizing thing I ever heard."

"I'm afraid that's all," I said. "She went her way and I went mine.
If she recalls me at all, she probably thinks of me as a weak-kneed
individual who faints like a woman when everything is over."

"What did I tell you?" Mrs. Dallas asserted triumphantly. "He fainted,
did you hear? when everything was over! He hasn't begun to tell it."

I would have given a lot by that time if I had not mentioned the girl.
But McKnight took it up there and carried it on.

"Blakeley is a regular geyser," he said. "He never spouts until he
reaches the boiling point. And by that same token, although he hasn't
said much about the Lady of the Wreck, I think he is crazy about her. In
fact, I am sure of it. He thinks he has locked his secret in the caves
of his soul, but I call you to witness that he has it nailed to his
face. Look at him!"

I squirmed miserably and tried to avoid the startled eyes of the girl
across the table. I wanted to choke McKnight and murder the rest of the
party.

"It isn't fair," I said as coolly as I could. "I have my fingers
crossed; you are five against one."

"And to think that there was a murder on that very train," broke in the
lady in yellow. "It was a perfect crescendo of horrors, wasn't i