, and suddenly in
the little upthrown illumination I saw the lips holding tightly the
cigarette; a little higher the flame stretched, and I saw the eyes and
the black bar of the brows. I almost screamed. At the same instant he
looked up and saw me.

It was just for an instant we gazed at each other thus. Then the match
went out, the light of the cigarette failed, and I saw it drop like a
glow-worm to the ground. I was looking again into nothing but
impenetrable dark. Could it have been real--that glimpse of him--or
only a picture on the night?

I leaned forward through the window and called softly into the
blackness: "Come here!" I had the scared, shamed, unreal feeling of a
child playing at conjurer who hopes, yet knows no miracle can happen.
The shock was the greater then when, after a moment's interval, a
formless bulk shadowed my window. I shrank back in the surprise and
joy and fear of knowing him there.

"What can I do for you?" a voice asked, proceeding from the shadow, as
courteously, as formally, as if it were speaking in the lighted
ball-room I had just quitted.

"Oh, get in, get into the carriage!" I cried, for it seemed to me that
all the city was spying on him, and the risk he ran was more than I
could bear. He hesitated one more heart-breaking instant. Then, I
thought, he drew back. I reached out blindly toward him and clasped
his wrist.

My fingers were astonished at the great pulse that throbbed under them
like a heart, sending a thrilling through my veins. Then I felt the
downward sway of the carriage, and the sweeping of a serape over my
feet; and I had released his wrist and knew he was sitting opposite me.
I leaned out of the still open door and spoke to the cabman. "Drive
over to Washington Square, and then around the Square."

Extraordinary as this direction was, he made no demur, only a sort of
grunt, deep in his coat-collar, and almost before I was in my seat
again the wheels were turning, and I saw the arm of my otherwise
indistinguishable companion move darkly against the paler square of
glass as he closed the carriage door, and shut us up alone together in
the dark. He himself was scarcely separable from it, but I seemed to
know how hard he was looking at me.

"Where were you going?" I said.

"Nowhere that you may go. Tell me quickly what you want of me."

It was strange that he, who so long had been a speechless figure--our
only communication by looks--now had become