The Streets of Ascalon. Chambers Robert William

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СКАЧАТЬ adorers, deftly evaded their pressing gallantries – evaded the Harlequin, too, with laughing mockery, skilfully disengaging herself from the throng of suitors stumbling around her, crowded and buffeted on every side.

      After her like a flash sped Harlequin: for an instant, just ahead of him, she appeared in plain sight, glimmering brightly against the green and swaying tapestry of living leaves and flowers, then even as her pursuers looked at her, she vanished before their very eyes.

      They ran about distractedly hunting for her, Turk, Drum Major, Indian Chief, and Charles the First, then reluctantly gave up the quest and drifted off to seek for another ideal. All women are ideal under the piquant promise of the mask.

      A pretty shepherdess, lingering near, whispered close to Quarren's shoulder behind her fan:

      "Check to you, Harlequin! That golden dancer was the only girl in town who hasn't taken any pains to meet you!"

      He turned his head, warily, divining Molly Wycherly under the disguise, realising, too, that she recognised him.

      "You'll never find her now," laughed the shepherdess. "Besides she does not care a rap about meeting a mere Harlequin. It's refreshing to see you so thoroughly snubbed once in a while." And she danced gaily away, arms akimbo, her garlanded crook over her shoulder; and her taunting laughter floated back to him where he stood irresolute, wondering how the golden dancer could have so completely vanished.

      Suddenly he recollected going over the house before its completion with Jim Wycherly, who had been his own architect, and the memory of a certain peculiarity in the construction of the ball-room flashed into his mind. The only possible explanation for her disappearance was that somebody had pointed out to her the low door behind the third pillar, and she was now in the gilded swallow's-nest aloft.

      It was a whim of Wycherly – this concealed stair – he recalled it perfectly now – and, parting the living tapestry of blossoms, he laid his hand on the ivory and gilded paneling, pressing the heart of one carved rose after another, until with a click! a tiny door swung inward, revealing a narrow spiral of stairs, lighted rosily by electricity.

      He stepped inside, closed the door, and listened, then mounted noiselessly. Half way up he caught the aroma of a cigarette; and, a second later he stepped out onto a tiny latticed balcony, completely screened.

      The golden dancer, who evidently had been gazing down on the carnival scene below from behind the lattice, whirled around to confront him in a little flurry of cigarette smoke.

      For a moment they faced each other, then:

      "How did you know where to find me, Harlequin?"

      "I'd have died if I hadn't found you, fairest, loveliest – "

      "That is no answer! Answer me!"

      "Why did you flee?" he asked. "Answer that, first."

      She glanced at her cigarette and shrugged her shoulders:

      "You see why I fled, don't you? Now answer me."

      The Harlequin presented the hilt of his sword which was set with a tiny mirror.

      "You see why I fled after you," he said, "don't you?"

      "All the same," she insisted, smilingly, "I have been informed on excellent authority that I am the only one, except the family, who knows of this balcony. And here comes a Harlequin blundering in! You are not Mr. Wycherly; and you're certainly not Molly."

      "Alas! My ultimate ends are not as shapely."

      "Then who are you?" She added, laughing: "They're shapely enough, too."

      "I am only a poor wandering, love-smitten Harlequin – " he said, "scorned, despised, and mocked by beauty – "

      "Love-smitten?" she repeated.

      "Can you doubt it, now?"

      She laughed gaily and leaned back against the balcony's velvet rail:

      "You lose no time in declaring yourself, do you, Harlequin? – that is, if you are hinting that I have smitten you with the pretty passion."

      "Through and through, beautiful dancer – "

      "How do you know that I am beautiful under this mask?"

      "I know many things. That's my compensation for being only a poor mountebank of a Harlequin – magic penetration – the clairvoyance of radium."

      "Did you expect to find me at the top of those cork-screw stairs?"

      "I did."

      "Why?"

      "Inference. Every toad hides a jewel in its head. So I argued that somewhere in the ugliness of darkest Philistia a gem must be hidden; and I've searched for years – up and down throughout the haunts of men from Gath to Ascalon. And – behold! My quest is ended at your pretty feet! – Rose-Diamond of the World!"

      He sank lithely on one knee; she laughed deliciously, looking down at his masked face.

      "Who are you, Harlequin? – whose wits and legs seem to be equally supple and symmetrical?"

      "Tell it not in Gath; Publish it not in the streets of Ascalon; I am that man for whom you were destined before either you or I were born. Are you frightened?"

      The Byzantine dancer laughed and shook her head till all the golden metal on her was set chiming.

      He said, still on one knee at her feet:

      "Exquisite phantom of an Empire dead, from what emblazoned sarcophagus have you danced forth across our modern oceans to bewitch the Philistia of to-day? Who clothed you in scarlet delicately? Who put ornaments of gold upon your apparel – "

      "You court me with Scripture as smoothly as Heaven's great Enemy," she said – "and to your own ends, as does he. Are you leagued with him, O agile and intrusive Harlequin, to steal away my peace of mind?"

      Lithely, silently he leaped up to the balustrade and, gathering his ankles under him, squatted there, cross-legged, peering sideways at her through the slanting eye-holes.

      "If that screen behind you gives way," she warned him, "you will have accomplished your last harlequinade."

      He glanced coolly over his shoulder:

      "How far is it to the floor below, do you suppose?"

      "Far enough to make a good harlequin out of a live one," she said… "Please be careful; I really mean it."

      "Child," he said solemnly, "do you suppose that I mind falling a hundred feet or so on my head? I've already fallen infinitely farther than that this evening."

      "And it didn't kill you?" she exclaimed, clasping her hands, dramatically.

      "No. Because our destiny must first be accomplished before I die."

      "Ours?"

      "Yours and mine, pretty dancer! I've already fulfilled my destiny by falling in love with you at first sight. That was a long fall, wasn't it?"

      "Very. Am I to fulfil mine in a similar manner?"

      "You СКАЧАТЬ