Jane Zild had risen after the song was ended, and while the applause sounded about her, she looked steadily at the vicomte.
"Banish the black thoughts," whispered Gontram to the young man, "come and talk a little to the diva; she appears to expect it."
"Mademoiselle," he said, turning to Jane, "here is one of your most enthusiastic admirers, who would consider himself happy if you would make a tour of the gallery with him."
Gontram turned to other guests, and Spero timidly drew near to the young girl and offered her his arm. Jane hesitated for a moment to take it, and looked expectantly at the vicomte. She waited, no doubt, for a compliment or some word from him. As Spero remained silent, a satisfied smile crossed the classical features of the diva, and placing her hand on his arm she carelessly said: "Let us go."
Just then something unexpected happened. A burning candle fell down from the chandelier, and a flame licked the black lace dress of the diva and enveloped her.
A cry of horror came from the lips of the bystanders, and they all rushed away. Spero was the only one who showed self-possession. Quick as thought, he tore one of the draperies from the wall, and placing the thick cloth around the shoulders of the diva, he pressed her tightly to his bosom.
The next minute Jane stood with pale face, but otherwise uninjured, before her rescuer, and holding her little hand to him, she whispered cordially:
"Thanks, a thousand thanks!"
Spero took the long fingers and pressed his lips as respectfully upon them as if Jane Zild were a queen and he her subject. The diva, with the drapery still about her shoulders, looked really like a queen, and all eyes were turned admiringly toward her.
A man dressed in plain dark clothes hurried through the crowd, and looking anxiously at Jane he cried in a vibrating voice: