er feet free from the clinging flakes and waving her
hands in the air to dry them, "I feel fit for anything. Let us have one
more dance before we go home, for I feel we really must go."

"You are sure you are quite fit?" inquired Hugh, still anxious for her.

"Fit? Look at me!" Her cheeks were bright with colour, her eyes with
light.

"You surely do look fit," said Hugh, beaming at her with frank
admiration. "But you were all in a few moments ago."

"Come along. There is a way into the hall by this door," she cried,
catching his hand and hurrying him into the dancing room again.

At the conclusion of their dance they came upon Patricia near the main
entrance, in great distress. "I have not seen Captain Jack anywhere,"
she lamented. "Have you, Adrien? I have just sent Vic for a final
search. I simply cannot go home till I have had my dance." The girl was
almost in tears.

"Never mind, dear," said Adrien. "He has many duties to-night with
all these players to look after. I think we had better go whenever Vic
returns. I am awfully sorry for you, Patricia," she added. "No! Don't!
You simply must not cry here." She put her arm around her sister's
shoulder, her own lips trembling, and drew her close. "Where has Vic
gone, I wonder?"

That young man, however, was having his own trials. In his search for
Maitland he ran across McNish, whom he recognised as Annette's partner
in the first dance.

"Hello!" he cried. "Do you know where Captain Maitland is, by any
chance?"

"No, how should I know," replied McNish, in a voice fiercely guttural.

"Oh!" said Vic, somewhat abashed. "I saw you dance with Annette--with
Miss Perrotte--and I thought perhaps you might know where the Captain
was."

McNish stood glowering at him for a moment or two, then burst forth:

"They are awa'--he's ta'en her awa'."

"Away," said Vic. "Where?"

"To hell for all I ken or care."

Then with a single stride McNish was close at his side, gripping his arm
with fingers that seemed to reach the bone.

"Ye're a friend o' his. Let me say tae ye if ony ill cames tae her, by
the leevin' God above us he wull answer tae me." Hoarse, panting, his
face that of a maniac, he stood glaring wild-eyed at the young man
before him. To say that Vic was shaken by this sudden and violent
onslaught would be much within the truth. Nevertheless he boldly faced
the passion-distracted man.

"Look here! I don't know who you are or what you mean," he said, in as
st