Danilo

“ An enormous relief came over Claire. She closed her eyes again. "Where is Danilo?" she asked herself.... Suddenly she remembered every detail of what had gone before—the pistol, the black smudge, the sharp report, the crash of falling glass. It was the black smudge on Danilo's nose that had saved her. She realized that now. What a ridiculous thing life was, anyway! And what trivial circumstances determined its issues! The wrong seats at a church social had yielded her Stillman. A black smudge upon the nose of an emotionally shaken man had snatched her from death. ”

“ She wept and implored him and used all her wiles, but Danilo remembering the past was firm. And presently he had the reward that a man always has when he's firm, for as soon as it was evident that she could no longer befool him, the evil enchantment that bound her broke with a snap and Peerless Beauty became a human maiden as gentle and sweet and loving as she was beautiful. ”

“ Danilo went on. "He could have given it to some other cause. He is very fond of Belgium, for instance. But he picked Serbia. Are you not proud of me, Claire?"
He held his hand out to her across the table. She gave him her fingers and he pressed them warmly.
"Why do you not tell me that you are proud of me?" he insisted, as she stared at him with silent, almost frightened eyes. "Do you not think that a man who can inspire the gift of a million dollars for his native land has reason to be conceited?" ”

“ Stillman was nearing San Francisco now. The landscape had the moth-eaten look that landscapes do when they make the transition from countryside to paved streets. But at least the morning air was still fresh, as yet unpolluted by the foul breath of drudgery and toil. He began to wonder vaguely whether Danilo would be stirring so early. He felt a sudden desire to see him. Well, why not? He remembered the doctor's address—a cheap lodging-house on Third Street. He had never favored Danilo before with a visit. It seemed absurd to burst in upon a man at the ungodly hour of six o'clock. ”

“ Don't let the maiden trick you again. She is under an enchantment that makes her cruel and crafty and the enchantment will never be broken until she meets a man upon whom her wiles have no effect."
"Trust me this time," Danilo said. "I've had my lesson."
So the old woman delivered the message and when [39] Peerless Beauty received it with scorn, Danilo at once set out for the castle with the magic pitcher in his hand. He began rubbing and every time he rubbed a company of soldiers appeared. ”

“ And yet, as he had said, the veriest beggar could do more—could fling his penny at the feet of Claire Robson and go on his starving way with a smile. Perhaps a man more trained in outwitting circumstances would have found a way out of the difficulty, but Stillman could see only blind alleys leading from every desire of his heart.... Danilo's ardent face rose before him. Here was a man who could no doubt feel the ecstasy of personal passion and yet have abundant thrill for bigger things. ”

“ Like a man in a dream Danilo rode back to the old woman's hut.
"Now, my son, are you satisfied?" she asked him. "Are you ready now to go home and settle down like a sensible young man?"
"Oh, granny!" Danilo raved. "Such a finger! I must see that finger again if it cost me my whole fortune!"
He slept that night in the old woman's hut and the next day returned to his native village. There he got [34] another bag of the golden ducats which his father had left him and at once started back to the castle of Peerless Beauty. ”

“ But he had a wish to outrage his own sense of conventionality.
He found Danilo up and stirring. The room was clean and unincumbered with personal effects. A few photographs upon the bureau, a panorama of Belgrade, an American and a Serbian flag intertwined—these were all the evidences of occupation. Danilo himself was in a gay-flowered dressing-gown and he moved toward the door with a graceful gliding movement as he said:
"Why, my dear fellow, you look ill! What can be the matter?" ”

“ She had thought always of Danilo in terms of warmth, even of passion. She had never imagined him capable of such steely malevolence.
"I have made a mistake," she went on, desperately. "I am willing to admit that, but...."
"No, not a mistake, Claire. Mistakes are never deliberate." ”

“ But the public's interest in kings and archbishops, and Serbian relief, and Claire Robson went the way of all satisfied curiosity, and just at the moment when it seemed that Danilo had ceased to be of any concern this same enterprising reporter made another discovery. Danilo's father may have sprung from a line of kings, but his mother was a product of the backbone of every nation—the common people. Now there were more columns of interesting speculation. Democracy came into its own. ”

“ What a touching thing this feast was, after all! What a long distance Stillman had traveled in order to appreciate the significance of such a childlike thing, of sensing just what it meant to Danilo! And suddenly she felt how beautiful and how tragic life was, how cleansed and scarred by the windstorms of emotion! Life was like a landscape answering sunshine and cloud in its season, always beautiful, always incomplete, veiled sometimes in the mists of morning and again palpitant and fully revealed in the noonday sun, unchanging and yet never quite the same.... ”

“ There was once a rich man who when he was dying called his son to his bedside and said:
"Danilo, my son, I am leaving you my riches. The only thing I ask of you is this: close your ears to all reports of an enchanted maiden who is known as Peerless Beauty and when the time comes that you wish to marry choose for wife some quiet sensible girl of your native village."
Now if the father had not mentioned Peerless Beauty all might have been well. Danilo might never have heard of her and after a time he would probably have fallen in love with a girl of his native village and married her. ”

“ Danilo had become a frequent—almost a nightly—visitor at the Café Ithaca. He came with books for Claire, about Serbia, about the war, about the place America was playing in the struggle. In the intervals she contrived to learn something about Stillman. His accident had kept him indoors longer than the doctor had expected. It appeared that these two suddenly had become warm friends.
"I find he has been to my country," Danilo told her one night. "He has been everywhere; but why not? One must pass the time in some way.... ”

“ Was it not possible that God had veiled his face in admiration instead of anger, leaving a yearning eye thus bared to the night?
And suddenly her thoughts flew to Danilo and that wonderful night when they had pledged their love in thin red wine. During the week she had climbed the tawny slopes of Telegraph Hill and stood in the glare of noonday above the fret of the town. The deserted garden where they had danced their love dance was still there, a little more ragged, a little more rock-strewn, a little more smothered under the litter of accomplished feasts. ”

“ Its glint irritated Danilo. He moved the weapon out of the light.... Presently he heard the chimes from St. Patrick's Church. He knew now that it was noon.... He began to count the money in his pocket. Seven dollars and forty cents! How far would that take him? How much nearer would seven dollars and forty cents carry him to Serbia?... He began to laugh.
The telephone tinkled. Danilo hesitated, then walked calmly over and took down the receiver. The voice of the hotel clerk said:
"This is the office. Mr. Stillman is down-stairs."
"Mr. Stillman? Oh yes, of course. Tell him to come up." ”

“ Danilo was as pleased as a child.
"See," he would cry to Claire, "we are in the paper again! That is a fine thing for Serbia! Now San Francisco will know that such a place exists."
Every day for a week there was fresh gossip concerning Claire in the newspapers. Quite in the American fashion, not even the glamour of Danilo's ancestors could secure for him the amount of space given to the woman he was to marry. The discovery was made that Miss Robson was "a talented musician ... a pianist of no mean ability ... a familiar figure to concert-goers ... an enthusiastic Red Cross worker...." ”

“ But Danilo seemed to divine his intent.
"And you, brother.... No, I shall not mock you with a return of the compliment. But I shall hope that it will all come right for you, somehow. That this woman you love shall be worthy of a good man. At least, then you will have your faith. Cold comforts are better than none at all!"
Stillman smiled grayly. "And what is to become of the Serbian project, now that you are to be...."
"My dear fellow, marriage is not the end of everything. A man still has his duties—his enthusiasms! ”

“ The men measured her with frank pleasure; the women with cold, disturbed disapproval.
At eleven o'clock the green curtains parted, and Danilo came in. Claire felt a sudden faintness that just missed being nausea.... She looked down at her plate.... When she glanced up again Danilo was making his way toward some vacant seats at one of the side-tables, and Stillman was following.
"Ah!" cried Lycurgus. "There is Danilo! Excuse me!... Thank you! Thank you!" and with that he rose and rushed over to Danilo. ”

“ Later in the evening the entertainers sang, and, of course, it was inevitable that there would be dancing. Danilo and Claire left at midnight. The feast was by no means ended, but Danilo had an early start scheduled for the next day, and Claire was not unwilling to escape before the spirit of the occasion staled.
On the way home Danilo said:
"There, that is what I call getting married! Your people go about it as if it were something to be ashamed of. You have another word for it ... well-bred, that is how you say it. But we should all be natural once in a while.... ”

“ He began to remember things. Again he heard the sharp slam of a taxi door, again he felt his cheeks burn as he leaned forward to pick up his hat, again he laid an inquisitive hand upon the shoulder of a slim, beetle-browed figure standing with one finger upon the call-bell of an elevator. And again that figure turned, fixing him with a red-lipped smile.... Yes, at this moment, standing before Danilo, it all came back.
"An American girl.... So he is to marry an American girl!... I wonder if...."
For a moment he felt the hot coals of smoldering lawlessness flare within him. ”

“ But Doctor Stoddard's presence itself gave her a very real idea of what Danilo had felt when he had set up his little name-day altar in the Robson dwelling. One could deny the precise terms of one's inbred faith, but it would still remain the most tangible clue to a larger hope—the slender thread which guided one through the maze.
Only one other person raised the question of what form of ceremony Claire had decided upon for her wedding, and curiously enough that person was Nellie Whitehead Holmes. ”

“ Now one morning when the peasant went to his stack, he found to his dismay that someone in the night had stolen some of the hay, so that evening he sent his eldest son to watch for the thief.
Danilo, accordingly, took his ax and his hay-fork and went to the field. On this night there was a biting frost and heavy snow, and he said to himself, "Why should I freeze myself stiff to save a little worthless fodder?" So, finding a warm corner, he lay down, wrapped himself in his thick fur coat and went to sleep. ”

“ Danilo smiled. "When I am well again.... You see, one cannot have too many excuses for a feast." He gave Stillman his hand. "My brother, what should we do without you?"
The Ithaca was crowded. The long tables had been set, and the usual decorations, fern fronds and carnations, made splashes of green and red color upon the table-cloths. Lycurgus came forward, bowing in his old manner.
"Ah, that Mr. Stillman," he whispered to Claire, "he is a man, I can tell you! Thank you! ”

“ But Danilo is different! One can't tell him certain things, easily."
He drew his liqueur-glass toward him and looked down into its amber depths with the air of a man catching his breath.
"Different!..." he returned, musingly. "Yes, you are right. He is a flame that warms everything that comes in contact with him. But I fancy he can wither, too."
"Yes, he can.... That's the reason why...."
He looked at her squarely.
"Claire ... do you mind if I call you 'Claire'?... I am afraid we are playing with fire."
It was past six o'clock when Claire left the restaurant. ”

“ Danilo cried, hotly.
"Neither do you!" said the other, with an indulgent laugh.
Danilo gulped the whisky in silence and went out with a morose air.
"A fool?... A fool?..." he kept repeating.
The issue was at once irritating and impersonal. He felt as if the barkeeper had affronted the whole masculine sex. A man was a fool for allowing himself to be taken in, he was quite ready to grant that. But no man was a fool for collecting the full toll of feminine duplicity. Now this man, in the dressing-room of the St. Francis Hotel, who had shot down a woman.... ”

“ Claire glimpsed a new Stillman in these fragments which the doctor brought her. It was the man-to-man Stillman, without artifice and reservations. And she had an added sense of masculine unity, of the impenetrable circle that men draw about their conduct, so far as the other sex is concerned. She found that he had been moved to even deeper revelations under the sympathetic intriguing of one of his own kind. He even told the doctor about his wife.
"I do not think he is a man who has many confidants," Danilo explained. ”