Despite the lights and the music and the striking gaiety of the scene, I could not banish my feeling of dread. I felt, as people say, that "something was going to happen," and moved listlessly among the brilliant assembly, wondering what it would be.
"You look bored, Crawford," remarked O'Brien, coming across to me. "Is anything the matter?"
"No, thanks; I'm a bit off colour—that's all."
"Would you rather be in the mountains?" asked Colonel Miller, who had joined us.
"It depends on circumstances, colonel," I replied, trying to smile.
When they had left me, I fell back on my occupation of gazing indifferently at the brilliant scene. I could take no interest in it, nor in the chaff and nonsense of my friends, who tried hard to make me more like myself. It seemed that in some mysterious way I was waiting for something, though what I could not imagine. When the summons actually came, I was not in the least surprised.
Alzura, who brought it me, had no idea he was assisting at a tragedy, but, with a merry laugh, exclaimed, "Crawford, there is a lady outside waiting to see you; she will not leave her carriage."
"Who is it?" I asked.
"I don't know; I haven't seen her. A servant gave me the message, and I set off to find you."
"Thanks," said I quietly, and crossing the brilliantly-lit salon, took my cap and went into the vast hall.