We spent, perhaps, half an hour behind the curtain, and when we came forth I felt as if I was again at Frank’s party. Though the others had, perhaps, imbibed more than I, yet it had not affected them so sensibly, and, muddled as was my brain, I saw they were enjoying my condition.
They proposed that we have a peep at the Tiger, and I agreed very readily, having a faint idea that we were going to a zoological exhibition.
The zoological garden proved to be a brilliantly lighted room, redolent of cigars and full of tables, around which were grouped eager, anxious faces. I had never gambled in my life, but felt compelled to show my contempt for money by staking a few dollars on a game or two. I soon lost something over a hundred, and was getting more and more reckless, to the extent of much larger stakes, when Monte proposed to leave, saying to one of his companions, in an undertone, which I, however, heard:
“That will do for to-night, not too much at a time.”
Monte proposed to take us over to the ball room and introduce us to Lola, the sensation, but I objected that I was not in evening dress. Monte swore I was fit for Buckingham Palace, and dragged me along to the room. Our party was very noisy as we entered the ball room, and several gentlemen moved away from our group in apparent disgust. The brilliancy of the scene dazzled and confused me, and I stood staring stupidly about, holding to Monte’s arm for support. The floor was full of dancers, who were circling in a spirited Mazourka.
“There she is, Smith!” exclaimed Monte, “isn’t she superb?”
Just in front of us was the belle of the season—my unknown beauty of the circular railway, floating gracefully in the embrace of the black moustache.
Her hair was now caught up in a magnificent coil, and its black folds were adorned with a beautiful spray of pearls. Her eyes—and oh! how melting and tender was their look—splendid in their depth of expression, were turned up to the face of her partner, and her form, perfect in its outlines, reposed with easy confidence in his arms. Her arm, round, smooth and dazzling, was shown in fine relief against the black cloth of his coat, and her neck, white as snow, tapered exquisitely from her bare, dimpled shoulders to the shading of her hair.
How my heart throbbed with admiration as she passed me; and again that strange memory of a dream of her face came over me!
Again they came around, and her full face was turned toward me. Heavens, can it be? yes, there, on that lovely arm, just above the tinted kid, a serpent in Etruscan gold wound its coils up the flesh, and I knew it was Carlotta.