Page:Vance--Terence O'Rourke.djvu/238



she first came to her senses, in time, and broke from his arms.

"Ah, monsieur!" she cried. And the face he saw was beautiful, even though stained by tears, though wrung by distress. "But this is madness, madness!" she cried again.

"Sure," he said confusedly, for indeed the world was upside down with him then, "'tis the sweetest madness that ever mortal did know! Faith, me head's awhirl with that same madness, and the heart of me's on fire—ah, madame, madame!"

"No," she cried softly. "No, my—my friend—I—I cannot—" And she put forth a hand to ward off his swift advances.

Somehow the gesture brought reason to him in his madness. He stopped, catching her hand, and for a moment stood with bended head, holding it fast but tenderly.

"Ye are right, madame," he said at length. "I was the madman. 'Tis past now—the seizure. Can ye forgive me—and forget, madame?"

"Monsieur, to forgive is not hard." She smiled dazzlingly through a mist of tears. "To forget—is that so easy?"

But now he had a strong hand upon his self-control. "'Tis not the O'Rourke that will be forgetting, madame," he told her. "But Madame la Grande Duchesse de Lützelburg