, caught them as in a
leash; the steps faltered, slower, more lingering; slower, still slower
until the music stopped, dying away into the dome of the vault in a
last faint echo of sound.

The Countess swayed suddenly.

Her face was white as the lace on her bosom, and her eyes grew dark and
big, with black shadows sweeping her cheeks. Others stepped forward to
the dance; their places were filled and the music commenced again.

"Lean on me," whispered the Prince, "Are you ill? Countess, lean on my
arm--so."

His voice was hoarse and excited. He was swaying a little himself from
the intoxication of the dance.

"Take me away somewhere, some quiet place," she whispered back. "Let
me rest--I am faint."

He drew her after him and the two figures, the scarlet and the white,
passed under the archway into a salon beyond. The Prince raised a
curtain: "This is the Duke's own room," he said in her ear, "Go
under--be quick!"

The curtain fell heavily behind them and the two stood alone in the
Grand-Duke's room. There was a desk in the corner littered with
papers, a lamp stood beside, heavily shaded, and back in the shadowy
recesses was a couch.

"Help me there," whispered the Countess, "And then go--go, Prince,
leave me. My head is on fire! See, my cheeks, my hands, how they
burn? Help me to the couch."

She staggered and almost fell as they approached it, burying her face
in her hands.

"I can't leave you," said the Prince. He was on his knees beside her,
kissing her hands, trying to draw them down from her face. "Kaya, what
is the matter? Don't hide your eyes--look at me. Shall I call some
one? Are you ill?"

The Countess drew back against the cushions, shuddering, pushing him
from her: "Don't call any one," she said, "Give me that water on the
table there." Her eyes were wide open now and dilated; the hair fell
disordered in golden rings and waves about the oval of her face. She
drew her breath heavily; her bosom rising and falling like waves after
a storm. One hand pressed her lace as if to clutch the pulsing and
steady it; the other held the glass to her trembling lips.

The Prince hovered over the couch. He was pale and the crossing of his
eyes was more pronounced than ever. "Drink now," he whispered
soothingly as if to a child in trouble, "Drink it slowly. It is wine,
not water, and will bring back your strength. It was the dance; ah, it
was so fast, so mad. You were wonderful! The blo