rant is coming this way now. Something
is wrong, I am sure; I have no time to explain, but promise me you will
leave here at once--at once."

Her eyes, her words, were so insistent I could not refuse, although as I
glanced about I felt convinced there was no danger in this assemblage,
not a familiar face meeting mine. At the instant Grant came up, elbowing
his way through the press, and staring insolently into my eyes, even as
he bowed politely to the lady beside me.

"At least this is my privilege," he insisted, "unless there be another
previous engagement of which I am ignorant."

"Oh, no," and she rested her hands on the green sleeve, smiling from his
face into mine. "We were waiting for you to come. Good-night, Lieutenant
Fortesque."

They had taken a step or two, when Grant halted, holding her arm tightly
as he glanced back to where I stood.

"Would Lieutenant Fortesque spare me a moment after I have found the lady
a seat?" he questioned politely.

"Gladly, if you do not keep me waiting too long."

"Then there will be no delay. Shall we say the parlor below?"

I bowed, conscious of the mute appeal in the lady's face, yet with no
excuse for refusal.

"As well there as anywhere, sir."

Once again we bowed with all the punctilious ceremony of mutual dislike,
and he whispered something into her ear as they disappeared in the stream
of people. My cheeks burned with indignation at his cool insolence. What
could it mean? Was he merely seeking a quarrel? or was there something
else concealed behind this request? In either case I knew not how to act,
and yet felt no inclination to avoid the meeting. Studying over the
situation I pushed my way through the crowd across the floor of the
ball-room. There were a few people still lingering on the stairs, but,
except for the servants, the parlors below were deserted. I walked the
length of one of the great rooms, and halted in front of a fireplace to
await Grant's coming. I was eager to have this affair settled, and be
off. I comprehended now the risk I had assumed by remaining so long, and
began to feel the cords of entanglement drawing about me. There was a
door opposite where I stood, and, staring toward it, I saw it open
slightly, and, back in the darkness, the beckoning of a hand. Startled,
yet realizing that it must mean me, I stepped closer, gripping the hilt
of my sword, half suspecting treachery.

"Quick," and I recognized the deep contralto of the voice. "Do