“But you, yourself? Are you not coming?” he asked.
“No; I think I'll stay in. I feel rather too sorry for that poor little body.”
“You had better come. The brightness will cheer you.”
“I don't think I should care for it,” she replied, with her hand to her bosom, fingering a dark red rose in her dress.
Suddenly the flower fell from its stalk to the ground. She started slightly, from the unexpectedness, and, when Raine stooped and picked it up, held out her hand for it, palm upwards. But he disregarded her action and retained the rose.
She glanced at him, met his eyes. A wave of emotion passed through her, seeming for the moment to lift her off her feet. Why should she refuse? She knew perfectly well that she would give her soul to go with him through fire and water to the ends of the earth. But she dreaded lest he should know it.
She went to put on her things. Raine stepped on to the balcony to wait for her. He could see the pale reflection of the illuminations, and hear the noise of the people, and the faint sound of music broken by the cracking of a cabman's whip in the street below. For a moment his surroundings seemed to him unreal, as they do to a man gliding over the edge of a precipice.
“I wonder what is going to happen?” he said to himself.
CHAPTER IX.--VARIOUS ELEMENTS HAVE THEIR SAY.
|It was a sultry night. Not a breath of air was stirring. They had escaped from the crowd on the quays and were being rowed about the lake in a little boat gaily hung with Chinese lanterns. The glare fell on their faces, confusing their view, and making all dark objects around them invisible. Their eyes caught nothing but a phantasmagoria of coloured lights. The water swarmed with them. Scores of similarly illuminated craft darted hither and thither, crossed and recrossed each other on all sides, with the dazzling effect of myriads of fireflies. All around, fixed amid the moving lights, blazed the lamps on quays, bridges and jetties. Now and then, through a momentary vista, could be seen the gas devices on the fronts of the great hotels on the _Quai du Mont Blanc_. Now and then, too, they neared the looming hull of the great steamer, a mass of festoons of coloured lamps. The strains of the band on board broke through the roar of many voices, with a strange effect, and died away in the general hubbub as the steamer moved slowly off.