Page:Vance--Terence O'Rourke.djvu/277

 "Then tell me quickly," he besought her, "in what I may serve ye."

"Ah, but do you mean it? I have such need of a friend, monsieur!"

"'Tis me hope, madame, that I may be made happy by being termed such."

"You don't know me, monsieur?" she doubted, with a pursing of her lips that nigh maddened the man.

For he had considered them rather in the way of perfection, as the lips of women go; and the heart of O'Rourke, though steadfast enough in the long run, was alarmingly tender towards beauty in distress.

"I have known ye long—in me dreams, madame."

"Ah!" she cried softly, as though his gallant words meant much to her—which, her eyes were telling him, was so. Nor was he loath to believe.

"I—I have noticed you, monsieur," she said at length, "many times. You may have guessed—"

"Faith, I laid it to me egotism, madame!"

"And all the time I was wishing that I might have a man such as you to lean upon in my trouble. Ah, monsieur! if I only had—"

"I'm here," he suggested simply.

At that moment she turned, with an apprehensive glance over her shoulder, and uttered a little cry of alarm. O'Rourke followed her gaze, and saw, stark and black in the doorway of Shepheard's, the slim figure of the returning Egyptian.

"Quick!" cried the woman. "Do not let him see—"

He lingered a perilous instant. " What am I to do?"

"Wait here, monsieur—to-night—I will let you know."

And, suddenly, O'Rourke was back in his chair, calmly enough watching the uptwisting smoke of his cigar.