"As the bitter black frost of a night Slays the roses with pitiless might, As a sharp dagger-thrust hurls a king to the dust, So thy cruelty murdereth me.
"Yet in spite of thy queenly disdain, Thou art seared by my passion and pain; Thou shalt hear me repeat, till I die for it, sweet! 'I love thee! I dare to love THEE!'"
He ended abruptly and with passion, and rose from the piano directly.
I was enthusiastic in my admiration of the song and of the splendid voice which had given it utterance, and the Prince seemed almost grateful for the praise accorded him both by Heliobas and myself.
The page entered to announce that "the carriage was waiting for mademoiselle," and I prepared to leave. Zara kissed me affectionately, and whispering, "Come early to-morrow," made a graceful salute to Prince Ivan, and left the room immediately.
Heliobas then offered me his arm to take me to the carriage. Prince Ivan accompanied us. As the hall door opened in its usual noiseless manner, I perceived an elegant light brougham drawn by a pair of black horses, who were giving the coachman a great deal of trouble by the fretting and spirited manner in which they pawed the stones and pranced. Before descending the steps I shook hands with Heliobas, and thanked him for the pleasant evening I had passed.
"We will try to make all your time with us pass as pleasantly," he returned. "Good-night! What, Ivan," as he perceived the Prince attiring himself in his great-coat and hat, "are you also going?"
"Yes, I am off," he replied, with a kind of forced gaiety; "I am bad company for anyone to-night, and I won't inflict myself upon you, Casimir. Au revoir! I will put mademoiselle into the carriage if she will permit me."
We went down the steps together, Heliobas watching us from the open door. As the Prince assisted me into the brougham, he whispered: "Are you one of them!"
I looked at him in bewilderment.
"One of them!" I repeated. "What do you mean?"
"Never mind," he muttered impatiently, as he made a pretence of covering me with the fur rugs inside the carriage: "if you are not now, you will be, or Zara would not have kissed you. If you ever have the chance ask her to think of me at my best. Good-night."
I was touched and a little sorry for him. I held out my hand in silence. He pressed it hard, and calling to the coachman, "36, Avenue du Midi," stood on the pavement bareheaded, looking singularly pale and grave in the starlight, as the carriage rolled swiftly away, and the door of the Hotel Mars closed.