Page:The Yellow Book - 08.djvu/140

a puff of gun-fire from a distant coast. The good, round light went out, and in its place came gloom and the shadows of night. Then the cloud rolled away, and for a moment the sun shone forth upon the world again in a blaze of good-night splendour.

What happened next was begun and ended in the space of three seconds. A trill of low laughter fell upon my ears; turning swiftly, I observed Mayfair trying, with poor success, to preserve his gravity. Seeking for the cause, I found it in the Yellow Man, who had fallen upon his knees, with long arms raised reverently towards the sun, that glowed full upon his ascetic face and head, which bobbed in unison to a torrent of words, in some unknown tongue, that broke from his lips. It was the back of the man's nodding head that moved Mayfair to mirth. Had he seen his face as I saw it at that moment he would have felt no inclination to laugh—so sad, so profound, was the look of passionate entreaty that illumined his countenance. It moved me strangely, and then, in a flash, my wonder was changed into horror—and I was rushing across the room to where Mayfair sat still laughing, but now in a desperate kind of way.

I caught the Yellow Man's arm as the dagger gleamed downwards in a sharp, swift stroke, and so lessened the force of the blow, but I was not in time to save the boy. Then blood spurted from the wound, and Mayfair fell forward upon his face.

"You devil," I cried, seizing the creature's hand that still gripped the dagger; but he slipped from my grasp like an eel and disappeared from the room, closing the door silently after him. I let him go, for Mayfair had fainted and needed me. His pretty white necktie—he always liked dainty clothing—was stained with blood. I staunched the flow, bound up the wound as well as I knew how, laid him down full length upon the floor, and then considered. At all costs the affair must be hushed up. Iwrote