The Blood-Red Cross | Page 9

be upon her, and she will exchange the pearls for the cross."
"I think not, for I shall be there to prevent it. Now, Druce, I have told
you all that is necessary. Go to bed and sleep comfortably."
The next morning dawned dull and sullen, but the fierce storm of the
night before was over. The ravages which had taken place, however, in
the stately old park were very manifest, for trees had been torn up by
their roots and some of the stateliest and largest of the oaks had been
deprived of their best branches.
Little Miss Ripley did not appear at all that day. I was not surprised at
her absence. The time had come when doubtless Madame found it
necessary to divulge her awful scheme to the unhappy child. In the
midst of that gay houseful of people no one specially missed her; even
Rowland was engaged with many necessary matters, and had little time
to devote to his future wife. The ballroom, decorated with real flowers,
was a beautiful sight.
Vandeleur, our host, and I paced up and down the long room. Rowland
was in great excitement, making many suggestions, altering this
decoration and the other. The flowers were too profuse in one place,
too scanty in another. The lights, too, were not bright enough.
"By all means have the ball-room well lighted," said Vandeleur. "In a
room like this, so large, and with so many doors leading into passages
and sitting-out rooms, it is well to have the light as brilliant as possible.
You will forgive my suggestion, Mr. Rowland, when I say I speak
entirely from the point of view of a man who has some acquaintance
with the treacherous dealings of crime."
Rowland started.
"Are you afraid that an attempt will be made here to-night to steal the
necklace?" he asked, suddenly.
"We won't talk of it," replied Vandeleur. "Act on my suggestion and

you have nothing to fear."
Rowland shrugged his shoulders, and crossing the room gave some
directions to several men who were putting in the final touches.
Nearly a hundred guests were expected to arrive from the surrounding
country, and the house was as full as it could possibly hold. Rowland
was to open the ball with little Antonia.
There was no late dinner that day, and as evening approached
Vandeleur sought me.
"I say, Druce, dress as early as you can, and come down and meet me
in our host's study."
I looked at him in astonishment, but did not question him. I saw that he
was intensely excited. His face was cold and stern; it invariably wore
that expression when he was most moved.
I hurried into my evening clothes and came down again. Vandeleur was
standing in the study talking to Rowland. The guests were beginning to
arrive. The musicians were tuning-up in the adjacent ball-room, and
signs of hurry and festival pervaded the entire place. Rowland was in
high spirits and looked very handsome. He and Vandeleur talked
together, and I stood a little apart. Vandeleur was just about to make a
light reply to one of our host's questions when we heard the swish of
drapery in the passage outside, and little Antonia, dressed for her first
ball, entered. She was in soft white lace, and her neck and arms were
bare. The effect of her entrance was somewhat startling and would have
arrested attention even were we not all specially interested in her. Her
face, neck, and arms were nearly as white as her dress, her dark eyes
were much dilated, and her soft black hair surrounded her small face
like a shadow. In the midst of the whiteness a large red cross sparkled
on her throat like living fire. Rowland uttered an exclamation and then
stood still; as for Vandeleur and myself, we held our breath in suspense.
What might not the next few minutes reveal?
It was the look on Antonia's face that aroused our fears. What ailed her?

She came forward like one blind, or as one who walks in her sleep. One
hand was held out slightly in advance, as though she meant to guide
herself by the sense of touch. She certainly saw neither Vandeleur nor
me, but when she got close to Rowland the blind expression left her
eyes. She gave a sudden and exceedingly bitter cry, and ran forward,
flinging herself into his arms.
"Kiss me once before we part for ever. Kiss me just once before we
part," she said.
"My dear little one," I heard him answer, "what is the meaning of this?
You are not well. There, Antonia, cease trembling. Before we part, my
dear? But there is no thought of parting. Let me look at you, darling.
Ah!"
He held her at arm's length