"Where have you been, Adrien?" she said gently.
"I thought you had forgotten me."
"No!" he answered sharply, "that would be impossible; but I was called
away. Do you care for this dance? Or, would you give me just a few
moments with you alone on the terrace?"
Her eyes softened.
"Yes, if you like, Adrien," she said gently. "I am really tired now, and
longing for the air."
"Come, then," he said; and catching up a silken wrap that lay on one of
the seats, he threw it tenderly over her.
Together they passed out on to the terrace, and seemed to have slipped
into another world, so great a contrast was the peaceful moonlit valley
beneath them to the brilliant, heated ball-room they had just left.
As the curtained door swung behind them, Jasper Vermont, alias
Mephistopheles--his scarlet costume now changed to ordinary evening
dress, and covered with a long black domino, similar to that which Ada
had donned--shot a sharp glance after them; then, with a sinister smile,
he left the room by another exit, and made his way into the grounds.
Keeping well within the shadow of the trees and shrubs, he crouched
down, directly under the terrace where Adrien had led Constance; here,
motionless and scarcely breathing, he listened with eager ears.
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