H. B. Marriott Watson

“ There is none. Thank you. Once more, I answer myself, oracularly—on whom but upon that one who traitorously went over to the enemy?"
"Miss Herrick!" exclaimed Miss Peggy.
"Our youngest postulant, looking through white clear eyes of innocence, sees it at once," pursued Hollis, waving his hand. "Justice demands the traitorous one to be offered in sacrifice. Let the knives be sharpened! Where are my matches?"
He struck one, and let the flame shine on the calm face of the statue. "The hour is auspicious. Assistant priest Severne, bring the victim. ”

“ Lee, go on. You're few!"
"No, hang it—one can't be few!"
"There can't be fewer than one," declared Hollis.
"I'll go on—with Miss Carr," said Lord Alec.
"Thank Heaven for a respite!" said Hollis, sinking into a chair. "Where did you say the supper-room was?"
"Don't let him go, Miss Herrick. He's a poor thing, but our own."
"Do you know, I've just thought of another," said Miss Fetherstone brightly. "'Flu'—the influenza, you know."
Hollis groaned.
"How jolly!" exclaimed Severne. "We can all go about sneezing."
"I thought you hadn't to make a noise," said Lady Smedley. ”

“ Severne fled through the length and breadth of the drawing-room. Where was Miss Herrick? She and Rushworth had vanished. In the billiard-room Alec Lee was engaged in teaching several girls how not to dig holes in the cloth. He opened the long French windows that gave on the terrace, and looked out. White moonlight silvered the lawn, and shone on the shoulder of quivered and sandalled Artemis in the distance.
"Isn't it a beautiful night?" said a nice voice in his ear.
"Divine!" He turned to face Peggy Fetherstone, and behind her the unfathomable countenance of George Hollis. ”

“ Severne was thirty, and of a nervous, active temperament; Hollis was nearly forty, and imperturbable.
"I wonder why the dickens we're not playing bridge?" said Severne restlessly, watching Miss Herrick at the piano. "Don't you hate a man who banjos?" ”

“ Rushworth. I think it was abominable of you to let him fall over!"
Severne touched her arm with his fingers, and thrilled to do so. "Hist!" he whispered. "Do you notice a figure, rather saturnine, yonder by the laurels?"
"Yes; is it——"
"My own belief is that it is Alec Lee sent out to find both of us. The High Priest—Hollis—is determined."
"Well, what does it matter?" she asked lightly.
"My dear lady, forgive me," pursued Severne in intense earnest. "I have deceived you. They don't want you to take vows to Artemis. They want you for something worse even—for a sacrifice!" ”

“ Severne flung himself down in a chair. "Would you mind seeing if there's any brandy in the supper-room, Miss Carr?" he said weakly. "Is the man insane?"
"I think 'too' isn't a bad idea," put in Ashley Durnford, rather self-conscious and quite young. "Too utter, you know."
"How exactly you express my feelings!" murmured Severne. "More brandy, please!"
"Why not try 'woo'?" inquired Lady Smedley.
"Why not?" said Severne, getting to his feet. ”

“ It's—it's not fair."
"All is fair——" said he, and paused. Miss Herrick, too, was silent. "I will get him out if you promise me something," he went on.
"I will promise nothing," she replied hastily. "I can't think how you can—— I'll call to him myself."
"Then he'll probably fall right into the pond. It must be just about where he is."
"Hullo!" called Hollis's voice. "Is anyone there? What's happening? Is it a circus?"
"Stand in the shadow," said Severne to Miss Herrick. "It's the Artemis gang. I will save you yet. No, it's only Rushworth," he explained to the approaching group. ”

“ Severne?" inquired young Ashley Durnford, who was talking with Miss Fetherstone.
"Sorry I've given the principal part to Hollis," said Severne apologetically, "but you can be a monkey. Now let us rehearse."
"But I don't know how to be a cockatoo," wailed Lady Smedley. "What does a cockatoo say?"
"Say 'Pretty Polly!' in an insinuating voice," suggested George Hollis, with his impassive humorous countenance. "I'm going to say 'Grrrr-r-r!'"
"But this is dumb crambo," said Julia Herrick in protest. "We can't make noises."
"Well, how the dickens can we act 'zoo' if we don't?" demanded Severne. ”

“ Raymond? I believe she's making for us now Rushworth's row's finished. Hadn't we better——"
It was too late. "Oh, Mr. Severne, Mr. Hollis," their hostess's voice challenged them, "we're going to play at dumb crambo. Will you make up a party to go out?"
"Make me a child again just for to-night," murmured Hollis.
"It's a mad world, my mistress," said Severne, with a little bow, "but I'm glad to be mad with it. I choose Lady Smedley, Miss Herrick, Miss Fetherstone, Miss Peggy Fetherstone, and—and Miss Carr; also, to wit, viz., namely, item, Hollis here, Durnford, and, oh, Lord Alec Lee!" ”

“ I am partly of Scottish extraction, as you are aware, and the following interesting dialogue has occurred to me as possibly bearing on the situation. The scene is on a wool market; persons of the drama, two, buyer and seller. ”