o turned again toward the table. The black eyes were still gleaming
at him from behind the tawny yellow of the mask. He nodded to the girls
who had just spoken, cast one farewell look at Nanina, and moved down
the room to get round to the side of the table at which the Yellow Mask
was standing. Step by step as he moved the bright eyes followed him.
Steadily and more steadily their evil light seemed to shine through and
through him, as he turned the corner of the table and approached the
still, spectral figure.

He came close up to the woman, but she never moved; her eyes never
wavered for an instant. He stopped and tried to speak; but the chill
struck through him again. An overpowering dread, an unutterable
loathing seized on him; all sense of outer things--the whispering of the
waiting-girls behind the table, the gentle cadence of the dance music,
the distant hum of joyous talk--suddenly left him. He turned away
shuddering, and quitted the room.

Following the sound of the music, and desiring before all things now
to join the crowd wherever it was largest, he was stopped in one of
the smaller apartments by a gentleman who had just risen from the card
table, and who held out his hand with the cordiality of an old friend.

"Welcome back to the world, Count Fabio!" he began, gayly, then suddenly
checked himself. "Why, you look pale, and your hand feels cold. Not ill,
I hope?"

"No, no. I have been rather startled--I can't say why--by a very
strangely dressed woman, who fairly stared me out of countenance."

"You don't mean the Yellow Mask?"

"Yes I do. Have you seen her?"

"Everybody has seen her; but nobody can make her unmask, or get her to
speak. Our host has not the slightest notion who she is; and our hostess
is horribly frightened at her. For my part, I think she has given us
quite enough of her mystery and her grim dress; and if my name, instead
of being nothing but plain Andrea D'Arbino, was Marquis Melani, I would
say to her: 'Madam, we are here to laugh and amuse ourselves; suppose
you open your lips, and charm us by appearing in a prettier dress!'"

During this conversation they had sat down together, with their backs
toward the door, by the side of one of the card-tables. While D'Arbino
was speaking, Fabio suddenly felt himself shuddering again, and became
conscious of a sound of low breathing behind him.

He turned round instantly, and there, standing between them, and peering
down at them, was the