“Was that the Yellow Peril you were talking about, Isabel?” Holborne smiled into his mustache.
Her olive face flushed proudly. “The peril of a United East.”
“And Ghengis Khan and his hordes will again overrun us?” he asked ironically.
“Ah! If only he would arise! If only somebody strong, strong would come!” Her gaze wandered desperately to the spot where Julie and Barry stood.
“But you have another land!” Matfield Barren expostulated. “When you lift those violet eyes of yours, I have visions of long rolling uplands, with gray mist upon them, and of the sun, and thyme, and quiet sheep.” He came nearer, and spoke in a low, persuasive tone. “We belong now to the East—the East that rejects no man; nevertheless, let us drink to that other land.”
He led her off to the punch bowl, but Julie saw that she refused the cup he offered her. Some of these people seemed to have a great deal shut up in their hearts. Julie remembered Ellis’s warning, and made a move toward Isabel; but just then somebody began to sing.
Julie thrilled with delight. The Arabian Nights’ Tales to music! One saw them all, Sindbad, Aladdin, Sheherazade, The Calenders and the Kings float wondrously by in arabesques of inconceivable tints of melody. Like magic the colorful splendor of Asian loves unfurled. The voice had a divine aroma, as if weighted with the fragrance of the gardens of Paradise.
Then it took on a new tone, and became intolerable in its play upon the soul. The girl wanted to escape. It struck too deep. It challenged the Judgment Day. Her gaze traveled around those groups of faces. Barry’s desert face looked as if he saw the veil lifted and the world in full completion of his dreams. Isabel’s twilight face was tense with suppressed exultation. The enigmatic being, Orcullu, did not appear to stir, but a fire was growing in his eyes. Shell’s somber face stared stonily into the night; Matfield Barren’s sash drooped forlornly at his side; Holborne looked into his hard hands, as if to read over their story; Leah Chamberlain was fluttering distressfully, like a bird whose wings had been caught; Chad Messenger looked suddenly pinched and weary, while Ellis Wilbur from the edge of the group caught Julie’s eye as if to challenge her to say that all this was not a dream.
The man who counted tobacco leaves left the piano.
The throng of guests gradually dissolved. While Isabel turned to speak a final word to Orcullu, Barry bent to Julie from his great height.