The Dark Star - Page 221/255

For a moment Neeland hesitated, but curiosity won: "Who is likely to try anything of that sort?" he asked. And a tingling

sensation, not wholly unpleasant, passed over him.

"Almost anyone here, if you are recognised," she said, as gaily as

though she were imparting delightful information.

"But you recognise us. And I'm certainly not dead yet."

"Which ought to tell you more about me than I am likely to tell

anybody. Now, when I smile at you and shake my head, make your adieux

to me, find Captain Sengoun, and take your departure. Do you

understand?"

"Are you really serious?"

"It is you who should be serious. Now, I give you your signal,

Monsieur Neeland----"

But the smile stiffened on her pretty face, and at the same moment he

was aware that somebody had entered the room and was standing directly

behind him.

He turned on his chair and looked up into the face of Ilse Dumont.

There was a second's hesitation, then he was on his feet, greeting her

cordially, apparently entirely at ease and with nothing on his mind

except the agreeable surprise of the encounter.

"I had your note," he said. "It was charming of you to write, but very

neglectful of you not to include your address. Tell me, how have you

been since I last saw you?"

Ilse Dumont's red lips seemed to be dry, for she moistened them

without speaking. In her eyes he saw peril--knowledge of something

terrible--some instant menace.

Then her eyes, charged with lightning, slowly turned from him to the

girl on the sofa who had not moved. But in her eyes, too, a little

flame began to flicker and play, and the fixed smile relaxed into an

expression of cool self-possession.

Neeland's pleasant, careless voice broke the occult tension: "This is a pretty club," he said; "everything here is in such

excellent taste. You might have told me about it," he added to Ilse

with smiling reproach; "but you never even mentioned it, and I

discovered it quite by accident."

Ilse Dumont seemed to find her voice with an effort: "May I have a word with you, Mr. Neeland?" she asked.

"Always," he assured her promptly. "I am always more than happy to

listen to you----"

"Please follow me!"

He turned to the girl on the sofa and made his adieux with

conventional ceremony and a reckless smile which said: "You were quite right, mademoiselle; I'm in trouble already."