Amusement Only Part 37

She was. She sighed. She opened her eyes, as if she were waking out of sleep. She turned to me.

"George!"

"My darling!"

I caught her in my arms. I held her to my breast. What mattered it if there were others there? We were standing by an open grave!

"I do so love you, George!"

She was dreaming. She thought we were alone.

"Margaret!"

I kissed her. Something caused her to look round. There was old Pybus standing at her side. She drew herself away from me. She blushed a rosy red; then her glance travelled round the room. She pressed her hands against her bosom. A startled look came into her eyes.

"Then--it wasn't all a dream."

Hughes slipped his arm through hers.

"Miss Hammond, I must insist upon your taking exercise. Take a sharp turn or two round the room with me. Lucas, I wish you'd sit down and play us a dance. Or, better still, let me sit down and play, and you and Miss Hammond take a few turns together. Mr. Pybus, you must dance with Mrs. Chalmers. A flyaway gallop, or a rattling polka. They're better than valses."

There was a remarkable expression upon old Pybus's enamelled countenance. So far as that goes, I expect there was on mine--but, as to that, no matter.

"Might I ask, once more, for an explanation of these very singular proceedings?"

"I warn you, Mr. Pybus, that if you do not dance with Mrs. Chalmers, you must be responsible for the consequences, both as they regard yourself and the lady."

Pybus's eyes wandered from Hughes to Mrs. Chalmers. The lady was making noise enough for ten. She did not strike the imagination as being a promising partner for a dance. So Pybus seemed to think.

Hughes struck up, "You should see me dance the polka," playing it at the rate of about sixty miles an hour. Margaret looked at me.

"Are you and I to dance? Why dance?"

I shook my head.

"Hughes," I said, "I can't."

"You must, man, you must! Are you mad?"

"I can't."

I couldn't. A numbness seemed to be settling on my brain. My legs refused to support me. I sank into a chair. Margaret hesitated for just one second. I could see her trembling. Then she sat on the ground close to my feet. She leaned her arm upon my knee. Her face was turned towards mine.

"Nor can I. If we must die, George, let us die together; but not dancing."

"What on earth," inquired Pybus, "is all this talk of dying, Mr.

Hughes? I insist upon an answer, sir."

In a sort of fury Hughes leaped from the music-stool.

"And I insist, Mr. Pybus, upon your dancing with Mrs. Chalmers. I warn you that if you don't you will be morally guilty, not only of murder, but of suicide." He turned to me. "As for you--are you a man? Do you think that it is your life only which is hanging in the balance? I tell you that the only hope for Miss Hammond is to keep her circulating. Do that, and I will answer for it with my own life, that all will yet be well."

"Come, while I can, let me keep you circulating, Maggie!"

It was not often that I called my "rare, pale Margaret" Maggie. But, at that master moment of our lives, I felt that the endearing name was best. She rose, my darling. I put my arm about her waist.

"George, whatever you think it best."

"That's better," said Hughes.

"Now let me see you go it. Give her fits, my boy."

Again he dashed into Mr. Grossmith's popular air. I never heard it played at such a rate before. Possibly with a view of raising our spirits, he shouted out the chorus in a tone of voice which must have been audible quite two streets away. It was deafening!

You should see me dance the polka, You should see me cover the ground; You should see my coat-tails flying--

My coat-tails were anything but flying. We made no attempt at keeping time with Hughes. Under the most favourable circ.u.mstances the thing would have been impossible. We moved, Margaret and I, as if we were treading a funeral measure. My legs were going at the knees. I felt her frail frame quivering in my arms.

"Now, then, Pybus," shouted Hughes, "off you go with Mrs. Chalmers.

Don't ask her; make her. Pull her off the couch and jump her about!"

Pybus appeared to be endeavouring to persuade Mrs. Chalmers to join him in the mazy dance. The lady had suddenly become still, which, for some reasons, the chief one being the noise which Hughes was making, was perhaps as well.

"How can I pull her off the couch," answered Pybus, "when she's in a fit, or dead, or something?"

Up jumped Hughes.

"Keep going, you two! Don't stop for a single instant. Lucas, everything depends upon your keeping Miss Hammond circulating."

"I can't," I said.

"Nor can I," said Margaret.

The utterances were almost simultaneous. Simultaneously we sank into an ottoman.

"Mrs. Chalmers! Mrs. Chalmers!" shouted Hughes, "Pybus, help me to lift her off the couch. Now, then, you two, what have you stopped for?"

He turned to Margaret and me. Something in our faces or in our att.i.tudes appeared to frighten him. He ran to the door yelling in a manner which absolutely frightened me.

"Brooks! Brooks! Oh, my G.o.d, why doesn't the doctor come?"

CHAPTER III.

DOCTORS TO THE RESCUE!

Just as he reached the door it was opened. A very tall, and very stout, old gentleman entered. He had a black bag in his hand. But he did not seem to be the least in a hurry.