I was hardly so witless as not to realize the truth of his admonition. I
turned away; and with all the laughter and movement around us, I think
that Georg, Maida and Elza did not see me go.

For the space of an hour or more, I stood alone on the lower floor of
the pavilion, watching the balcony where Tarrano and the others sat.
Stood there alone, feeling helpless and with my heart heavy with
foreboding. Beneath my grey robe I was dressed in holiday fashion of the
Great City--beribboned and gartered, with feathers at my scarlet
shoulders for all the world like a male _nada_.[20] My red mask I kept
on, and folded my cloak around me.

[Footnote 20: A popinjay--fop.]

The dance floor was crowded. I saw now that it was cut into small
circles marked with black--circles in diameter about the length of a
man. At intervals--perhaps five minutes apart--a signal in the music
caused each of the dancing couples to select a circle and to dance
wholly within it. And then one of the circles, by mechanical device, was
raised into the air above all the others. The couple on it, thus
prominent, danced at their best, to be judged by Tarrano for a prize.

For an hour I stood there. I could see Elza plainly. She had removed her
mask. Her face was flushed, her lips laughing. Once, in a chance
silence, her shout of applause rang out. The quality of abandonment in
it turned me cold. Did I see Tarrano's hand move back to his belt? Was
he intoxicating her? Then I saw Maida make a gesture--wave something
from beneath her cloak at Elza. A scent to sober her? It seemed so, for
Elza looked confused; and I saw Maida flash her a look of warning.

Abruptly, from an alcove near me, a group of girls rushed out. Their
cloaks and white veils fell from them as they came my way--laughing as
they ran for the doorway leading outside to the pool. I was in their way
and they bumped into me; one of them gripped me. I tried to jerk loose,
but she clung. A slim girl, enveloped in her long, white tresses. Her
eyes laughed at me; her red mouth went up alluringly to my face.

"I love you--_you_, Jac Hallen." Her arms wound about my neck as she
clung. I was trying to cast her off when her fingers lifted a corner of
my mask.

"I was afraid you were _not_ Jac Hallen." Her whisper was relieved, and
it had suddenly turned swift and vehement. "I am sister to Maida--my
name, Alda. I am to warn you. When Tarrano dances with the Red
Woman--when they go up on the raised c