iver in
spate. And now, whether the end were ultimate happiness or hopeless,
irretrievable disaster, Michael and Magda must still fight their way
towards it, each alone, by the dim light of that "blind Understanding"
which is all that Destiny vouchsafes.

CHAPTER XXVI

FAREWELL

The curtains swung together for the last time, the orchestra struck
up the National Anthem, and the great audience which had come from
all parts to witness the Wielitzska's farewell performance began to
disperse.

A curious quietness attended its departure. It was as though a pall
of gravity hung over the big assemblage. Public announcements of the
performance had explained that the famous dancer proposed taking a long
rest for reasons of health. "But," as everyone declared, "you know what
that means! She's probably broken down--heart or something. We shall
never see her dance again." And so, beneath the tremendous reception
which they gave her, there throbbed an element of sadness, behind all
the cheers and the clapping an insistent minor note which carried across
the footlights to where Magda stood bowing her thanks, and smiling
through the mist of tears which filled her eyes.

The dance which she had chosen for her last appearance was the
_Swan-Maiden_. There had seemed a strange applicability in the choice,
and to those who had eyes to see there was a new quality in the
Wielitzska's dancing--a depth of significance and a spirituality of
interpretation which was commented upon in the Press the next day.

It had been quite unmistakable. She had gripped her audience so that
throughout the final scene of the ballet no word was spoken. The big
crowd, drawn from all classes, sat tense and silent, sensitive to every
movement, every exquisite, appealing gesture of the Swan-Maiden. And
when at last she had lain, limp in death, in her lover's embrace,
and the music had quivered into silence, there followed a vibrant
pause--almost it seemed as though a sigh of mingled ecstasy and regret
went up--before the thunderous applause roared through the auditorium.

The insatiable few were still clapping and stamping assiduously when
Magda, after taking innumerable calls, at last came off the stage. It
had been a wonderful night of triumph, and as she made her way towards
her dressing-room she was conscious of a sudden breathless realisation
of all that she was sacrificing. For a moment she felt as though she
must rush back on to the stage and tell