"My companion, who had looked all around the hall in the meantime, now returned to where I stood. 'I have not been able to find any one corresponding to your description,' he said. 'God be thanked! I breathe more freely; I should not have liked, for the world, to have found her whom we look for in this place. But, mon Dieu, what is the matter? You look like a corpse!'
"'I have found her.'
"'Where?'
"'There!'
"He took his glass and examined Leonora for a few moments with most intense interest. She was still perfectly unconscious of those who were so near to her, and chatted and coquetted with her dancer.
"Then he shrugged his shoulders with pity and dropped his eye-glass. His face had become very serious.
"'Pauvre homme!' he whispered to himself.
"The music was breaking forth louder than ever; a new figure began in the Française, and it was Leonora's turn. She had evidently made great progress in her art since the day when I had seen her last dance at a club-ball in Fichtenau. I can candidly say I have never before or afterwards seen anything more perfect. It was the enchanting gracefulness of a jet-d'eau swaying to and fro in the light breeze, and yet at the same time a passionate rapture, such as we find nowhere else except perhaps among the Zingarellas of Spain or the Ghawazees of Egypt. At one moment it was the soft longing and yearning of gentle and subdued love, at the next moment it was the very soul of passion, trembling in every nerve and vibrating in every muscle, but here as well as there, a beautiful rhythm of marvellously complicated and yet ever harmoniously united movements was never wanting. This dance was a song--a song of love--but not of German love, dreamy, fragrant with the perfume of blooming lime-trees and softened by the pale light of the moon, but of sensuous Oriental love, hot with the burning rays of a Southern sun, and breathing narcotic voluptuousness. And with all that, her features were calm, not a muscle moving, not a trace of that repulsive, stereotyped smile worn by so many far-famed artists. Only her eyes burnt with uncanny fire, which blazed up brighter with every step, with every motion. Her partner rather walked than danced all the steps required with much elegance, but with a lofty carelessness, as if he looked rather ridiculous in his own eyes while performing the ceremony, and this calm composure seemed to make the passionate woman almost desperate, and determined to rouse him from his weary apathy by all the arts of which she was master. Perhaps this was really so; perhaps it only looked so--at all events this gave to the dance a rich dramatic interest, and afforded the by-standers a most attractive sight.
"'Ah, la belle Allemande!' cried an enthusiast near me.
"'Grand Dieu, qu'elle est jolie!' cried another; 'Brava! brava!' and he applauded energetically with both hands till all the by-standers followed his example. 'Brava! brava! Vive la reine Eléonore! Vive la belle Allemande!'