Page:The Father Confessor, Stories of Danger and Death.djvu/334

324 himself to chastise her. He raved at her for a pig-headed coward.

A coward! And that was the reason the wonderful Madame Blumenthal was afraid to go through her performance, afraid to do the amazing flight through the air that all London was crowding to see. She sat and cried and trembled till her eyes were swollen and the red mark of her husband's blow became even more vivid on her pale face.

"Oh, forgive me!" she sobbed; "let me off this one evening. I have never felt like this before, never been afraid."

And the man who could not understand fear dragged her on to her feet,—

"If you are not ready in five minutes, God help you!" he growled.

"They are all watching for me to fall," she whispered. "There's a man there that has followed us for the last six months, ever since I began my dangerous leap. He has followed us to Paris, to Vienna, to London—everywhere. He is a ghoul waiting for my blood; he gloats over my danger. I see his eyes as I go out and bow. They follow me as I climb the rope and mount into my seat. All the life in me