n the picture the dancer made as she came into
the room. Her wrap had fallen open and beneath the broad bars of
her cloth-of-silver dress her bosom yet rose and fell after the
exertions of her dance. A jet black curl had strayed out from
beneath her lofty silver head-dress, and she thrust it back in
its place with one little brown bejeweled hand whilst she
extended the other to Strangwise.

"Tiens, mon capitaine!" she said. Desmond was watching her
closely, fascinated by her beauty, but noticed an unwilling,
almost a hostile tone, in her voice.

Strangwise was speaking in his deep voice.

"Marcelle," he said, "I've brought a friend who is anxious to
meet you. Major Desmond Okewood! He and I soldiered together in
France!" The dancer turned her big black eyes full on Desmond as
she held out her hand to him.

"Old friends, new friends," she cried, clapping, her hands like a
child, "I love friends. Captaine, here is a very old friend," she
said to Strangwise as Mr. Mackwayte and Barbara came into the
rooms, "Monsieur Arthur Mackwayte and 'is daughter. I 'ave know
Monsieur Arthur almos' all my life. And, Mademoiselle, permit me?
I introduce le Captaine Strangwise and 'is friend... what is the
name? Ah, Major Okewood!"

Nur-el-Din sank into a bergere chair beside her great mirror.

"There are too many in this room," she cried, "there is no air!
Lazarro, Ramiro, all of you, go outside, my friends!"

As Madame's entourage surged out, Strangwise said:

"I hear you are leaving the Palaceum, Marcelle!"

He spoke so low that Mr. Mackwayte and Barbara, who were talking
to Desmond, did not hear. Marcelle, taking off her heavy
head-dress, answered quickly:

"Who told you that?"

"Never mind," replied Strangwise. "But you never told me you were
going. Why didn't you?"

His voice was stern and hard now, very different from his usual
quiet and mellow tones. But he was smiling.

Marcelle cast a glance over her shoulder. Barbara was looking
round the room and caught the reflection of the dancer's face in
a mirror hanging on the wall. To her intense astonishment, she
saw a look of despair, almost of terror, in Nur-el-Din's dark
eyes. It was like the frightened stare of some hunted beast.
Barbara was so much taken aback that she instinctively glanced
over her shoulder at the door, thinking that the dancer had seen
something there to frighten her. But the door was shut. When
Barbara looked into the mirror again, she saw onl