As darkness descended torches were lit, but it was difficult to distinguish faces and no one noticed two men in dark slouch hats drawn well over their faces who mingled with the crowd. Evelyn Stone, standing alone on the outskirts of the crowd, watched her four friends waltzing among the dancers.
“How much happier Lucia is than I am,” she was thinking. “How I wish I had been born just a simple peasant girl. Money means so little in comparison.”
But her reflections were rudely interrupted. A black scarf was thrown over her head and she was lifted off her feet and carried out of the circle of light into the darkness.
Owing to the unusual festivities, supper for the guests at the inn was very late that evening, and not until well past eight o’clock did Pasquale announce that the ladies would be served on the terrace.
“Where is Evelyn?” asked Miss Campbell anxiously when they had gathered around the table.
“Perhaps she has gone off with Lucia,” suggested Billie.
But Lucia was waiting on the table and had not seen her. Pasquale sent a boy scurrying around to search for her while the others ate their supper. They were quite sure she had wandered off with some of the villagers whom she had known before.
Night deepened and the moon came up, flooding the valley with its golden rays. It was very chilly, and they put on their ulsters and sat in a row on the terrace, waiting. From the inn yard came the sound of music and the beat of the dancers’ feet on the hard ground.
At last the waiting grew unbearable. Miss Campbell went to confer with the old priest next door and the girls hurried down the village street to search for their friend from house to house. Men were sent down the mountain road to the valley below. Others hunted through the vineyard. Somewhere in the village a clock struck midnight. The music ceased. The dancers crept off to bed, cold and tired.
The Motor Maids climbed upstairs to their small bedrooms under the eaves.