Do you know, he ventured smilingly, that your skirts and slippers are soaking wet?
I dont care. Isnt this June night heavenly?
She glanced across at the lighted house. Its so hot and noisy in there; one dances only with discomfort. A distaste for it all sent me out on the terrace. Then I walked on the lawn. Then I beheld you!.. Am I interrupting your work, monsieur? I suppose I am. She looked up at him naïvely.
He said something polite. An odd sense of having seen her somewhere possessed him now. From the distant house came the noisy American music of a two-step. With charming grace, still inspecting him out of her dark eyes, the girl began to move her pretty feet in rhythm with the music.
Shall we? she inquired mischievously Unless you are too busy
The next moment they were dancing together there on the wet lawn, under the high lustre of the moon, her fresh young face and fragrant figure close to his.
During their second dance she said serenely:
Theyll raise the dickens if I stay here any longer. Do you know the Comte dEblis?
The Senator? The numismatist?
Yes.
No, I dont know him. I am only a Latin Quarter student.
Well, he is giving that party. He is giving it for me in my honour. That is his villa. And I she 22 laughed am going to marry him perhaps! Isnt this a delightful escapade of mine?
Isnt it rather an indiscreet one? he asked smilingly.
Frightfully. But I like it. How did you happen to pitch your easel on his lawn?
The river and the hills their composition appealed to me from here. It is the best view of the Seine.
Are you glad you came?
They both laughed at the mischievous question.
During their third dance she became a little apprehensive and kept looking over her shoulder toward the house.
Theres a man expected there, she whispered, Ferez Bey. Hes as soft-footed as a cat and he always prowls in my vicinity. At times it almost seems to me as though he were slyly watching me as though he were employed to keep an eye on me.
A Turk?
Eurasian I wonder what they think of my absence? Alexandre the Comte dEblis wont like it.
Had you better go?
Yes; I ought to, but I wont Wait a moment! She disengaged herself from his arms. Hide your easel and colour-box in the shrubbery, in case anybody comes to look for me.
She helped him strap up and fasten the telescope-easel; they placed the paraphernalia behind the blossoming screen of syringa. Then, coming together, she gave herself to him again, nestling between his arms with a little laugh; and they fell into step once more with the distant dance-music. Over the grass their united shadows glided, swaying, gracefully interlocked moon-born 23 phantoms which dogged their light young feet
A man came out on the stone terrace under the Chinese lanterns. When they saw him they hastily backed into the obscurity of the shrubbery.
Nihla! he called, and his heavy voice was vibrant with irritation and impatience.
He was a big man. He walked with a bulky, awkward gait a few paces only, out across the terrace.
Nihla! he bawled hoarsely.
Then two other men and a woman appeared on the terrace where the lanterns were strung. The woman called aloud in the darkness:
Nihla! Nihla! Where are you, little devil? Then she and the two men with her went indoors, laughing and skylarking, leaving the bulky man there alone.
The young fellow in the shrubbery felt the girls hand tighten on his coat sleeve, felt her slender body quiver with stifled laughter. The desire to laugh seized him, too; and they clung there together, choking back their mirth while the big man who had first appeared waddled out across the lawn toward the shrubbery, shouting:
Nihla! Where are you then? He came quite close to where they stood, then turned, shouted once or twice and presently disappeared across the lawn toward a walled garden. Later, several other people came out on the terrace, calling, Nihla, Nihla, and then went indoors, laughing boisterously.
The young fellow and the girl beside him were now quite weak and trembling with suppressed mirth.
They had not dared venture out on the lawn, although dance music had begun again.
Is it your name they called? he asked, his eyes very intent upon her face.
Yes, Nihla.
I recognise you now, he said, with a little thrill of wonder.
I suppose so, she replied with amiable indifference. Everybody knows me.
She did not ask his name; he did not offer to enlighten her. What difference, after all, could the name of an American student make to the idol of Europe, Nihla Quellen?
Im in a mess, she remarked presently. He will be quite furious with me. It is going to be most disagreeable for me to go back into that house. He has really an atrocious temper when made ridiculous.
Im awfully sorry, he said, sobered by her seriousness.
She laughed:
Oh, pouf! I really dont care. But perhaps you had better leave me now. Ive spoiled your moonlight picture, havent I?
But think what you have given me to make amends! he replied.
She turned and caught his hands in hers with adorable impulsiveness:
Youre a sweet boy do you know it! Weve had a heavenly time, havent we? Do you really think you ought to go so soon?
Dont you think so, Nihla?
I dont want you to go. Anyway, theres a train every two hours
Ive a canoe down by the landing. I shall paddle back as I came
A canoe! she exclaimed, enchanted. Will you take me with you?
To Paris?
Of course! Will you?
In your ball-gown?
Id adore it! Will you?
That is an absolutely crazy suggestion, he said.
I know it. The world is only a big asylum. Theres a path to the river behind these bushes. Quick pick up your painting traps
But, Nihla, dear
Oh, please! Im dying to run away with you!
To Paris? he demanded, still incredulous that the girl really meant it.
Of course! You can get a taxi at the Pont-au-Change and take me home. Will you?
It would be wonderful, of course
It will be paradise! she exclaimed, slipping her hand into his. Now, let us run like the dickens!
In the uncertain moonlight, filtering through the shrubbery, they found a hidden path to the river; and they took it together, lightly, swiftly, speeding down the slope, all breathless with laughter, along the moonlit way.
In the suburban villa of the Comte dEblis a wine-flushed and very noisy company danced on, supped at midnight, continued the revel into the starlit morning hours. The place was a jungle of confetti.
Their host, restless, mortified, angry, perplexed by turns, was becoming obsessed at length with dull premonitions and vaguer alarms.
He waddled out to the lawn several times, still wearing his fancy gilt and tissue cap, and called:
Nihla! Damnation! Answer me, you little fool!
He went down to the river, where the gaily painted row-boats and punts lay, and scanned the silvered 26 flood, tortured by indefinite apprehensions. About dawn he started toward the weed-grown, slippery river-stairs for the last time, still crowned with his tinsel cap; and there in the darkness he found his aged boat-man, fishing for gudgeon with a four-cornered net suspended to the end of a bamboo pole.