t even moving from where he was he could whisper into her ear
that which had lain so heavily on his heart that at times he had felt
that it must break under the intolerable load.

Then as the soft strains of the music from the orchestra struck upon his
ear, the insistent whim seized him to make her dance with him, just
once--to-night. To-morrow the cannon would roar once more--to-morrow
Europe would make yet another stand against the bold adventurer whom
seemingly nothing could crush.

To-morrow a bullet--a bayonet--a sword-thrust--but to-night a last dance
together.

Those whims come at times to those who are doomed to die. Clyffurde's
one hope of peace lay in death upon the battlefield. Life was empty now.
He had fought against the burden of loneliness left upon him when
Crystal passed finally out of his life. But the burden had proved
unconquerable. Only death could ease him of the load: for life like this
was stupid and intolerable.

Men would die within the next few days in their hundreds and in their
thousands: men who were happy, who had wives and children, men on whose
lives Love shed its happy radiance. Then why not he? who was more lonely
than any man on earth--left lonely because the one woman who filled all
the world for him, hated him and was gone from him for ever.

But a last dance with her to-night! The right to hold her in his arms!
this he had never done, though his muscles had often ached with the
longing to hold her. But dancing with her he could feel her against him,
clasp her closely, feel her breath against his cheek.

She was not very tall and her head--had she chosen--could just have
rested in the hollow of his shoulder. The thought of it sent the blood
rushing hotly to his head and with his two strong hands he would at that
moment have bent a bar of iron, or smashed something to atoms, in order
to crush that longing to curse against Fate, against his destiny that
had so wantonly dangled happiness before him, only to thrust him into
utter loneliness again.

Then he spoke to her--and finally asked for the dance.

And now he held her, and guided her through the throng, her tiny feet
moving in unison with his. And all the world had vanished: he had her to
himself, for these few happy moments he could hold her and refuse to let
her go. He did not care--nor did she--that many curious and some angry
glances followed their every movement. Till the last bar was played,
till the final chord was