“Well, it was not a pleasant subject, that last tableau,”—said Lord Elton, as he came out of the theatre with Diana Chesney hanging confidingly on his arm—“You cannot say it was festal!”
“It was,—for the worms!” replied Lucio gaily—“Come, Miss Chesney,—and you Tempest, come along with Lady Sibyl,—let us go out in the grounds again, and see my will-o’-the-wisps lighting up.”
Fresh curiosity was excited by this remark; the people quickly threw off the gruesome and tragic impression made by the strange ‘tableaux’ just witnessed,—and poured out of the house into the gardens chattering and laughing more [p 280] noisily than ever. It was just dusk,—and as we reached the open lawn we saw an extraordinary number of small boys, clad in brown, running about with will-o’-the-wisp lanterns. Their movements were swift and perfectly noiseless,—they leaped, jumped and twirled like little gnomes over flowerbeds, under shrubberies, and along the edges of paths and terraces, many of them climbing trees with the rapidity and agility of monkeys, and wherever they went they left behind them a trail of brilliant light. Soon, by their efforts, all the grounds were illuminated with a magnificence that could not have been equalled even by the historic fêtes at Versailles,—tall oaks and cedars were transformed to pyramids of fire-blossoms,—every branch was loaded with coloured lamps in the shape of stars,—rockets hissed up into the clear space showering down bouquets, wreaths and ribbons of flame,—lines of red and azure ran glowingly along the grass-borders, and amid the enthusiastic applause of the assembled spectators, eight huge fire-fountains of all colours sprang up in various corners of the garden, while an enormous golden balloon, dazzlingly luminous, ascended slowly into the air and remained poised above us, sending from its glittering car hundreds of gem-like birds and butterflies on fiery wings, that circled round and round for a moment and then vanished. While we were yet loudly clapping the splendid effect of this sky-spectacle, a troop of beautiful girl-dancers in white came running across the grass, waving long silvery wands that were tipped with electric stars, and to the sound of strange tinkling music, seemingly played in the distance on glass bells, they commenced a fantastic dance of the wildest yet most graceful character. Every shade of opaline colour fell upon their swaying figures from some invisible agency as they tripped and whirled,—and each time they waved their wands, ribbons and flags of fire were unrolled and tossed high in air where they gyrated for a long time like moving hieroglyphs. The scene was now so startling, so fairy-like and wonderful, that we were well-nigh struck speechless with astonishment,—too fascinated and absorbed even to applaud, we had no conception how time went, or how [p 281] rapidly the night descended,—till all at once without the least warning, an appalling crash of thunder burst immediately above our heads, and a jagged fork of lightning tore the luminous fire-balloon to shreds. Two or three women began to scream,—whereupon Lucio advanced from the throng of spectators and stood in full view of all, holding up his hand.
“Stage thunder, I assure you!” he said playfully, in a clear somewhat scornful voice—“It comes and goes at my bidding. Quite a part of the game, believe me!—these sort of things are only toys for children. Again—again, ye petty elements!” he cried, laughing, and lifting his handsome face and flashing eyes to the dark heavens—“Roar your best and loudest!—roar, I say!”
Such a terrific boom and clatter answered him as baffled all description,—it was as if a mountain of rock had fallen into ruins,—but having been assured that the deafening noise was ‘stage thunder’ merely, the spectators were no longer alarmed, and many of them expressed their opinion that it was ‘wonderfully well done.’ After this, there gradually appeared against the sky a broad blaze of red light like the reflection of some great prairie fire,—it streamed apparently upward from the ground, bathing us all where we stood, in its blood-like glow. The white-robed dancing-girls waltzed on and on, their arms entwined, their lovely faces irradiated by the lurid flame, while above them now flew creatures with black wings, bats and owls, and great night-moths, that flapped and fluttered about for all the world as if they were truly alive and not mere ‘stage properties.’ Another flash of lightning,—and one more booming thud of thunder,——and lo!—the undisturbed and fragrant night was about us, clear, dewy and calm,—the young moon smiled pensively in a cloudless heaven,—all the dancing-girls had vanished,—the crimson glow had changed to a pure silvery radiance, and an array of pretty pages in eighteenth century costumes of pale pink and blue, stood before us with lighted flaming torches, making a long triumphal avenue, down which Lucio invited us to pass.
“On, on fair ladies and gallant gentlemen!” he cried—“This
[p 282] extemporized path of light leads,—not to Heaven—no! that were far too dull an ending!—but to supper! On!—follow your leader!”
Every eye was turned on his fine figure and striking countenance, as with one hand he beckoned the guests,—between the double line of lit torches he stood,—a picture for a painter, with those dark eyes of his alit with such strange mirth as could not be defined, and the sweet, half-cruel, wonderfully attractive smile playing upon his lips;—and with one accord the whole company trooped pell-mell after him, shouting their applause and delight. Who could resist him!—not one in that assemblage at least;—there are few ‘saints’ in society! As I went with the rest, I felt as though I were in some gorgeous dream,—my senses were all in a whirl,—I was giddy with excitement and could not stop to think, or to analyse the emotions by which I was governed. Had I possessed the force or the will to pause and consider, I might possibly have come to the conclusion that there was something altogether beyond the ordinary power of man displayed in the successive wonders of this brilliant ‘gala,’—but I was, like all the rest of society, bent merely on the pleasure of the moment, regardless of how it was procured, what it cost me, or how it affected others. How many I see and know to-day among the worshippers of fashion and frivolity who are acting precisely as I acted then! Indifferent to the welfare of everyone save themselves, grudging every penny that is not spent on their own advantage or amusement, and too callous to even listen to the sorrows or difficulties or joys of others when these do not in some way, near or remote, touch their own interests, they waste their time day after day in selfish trifling, wilfully blind and unconscious to the fact that they are building up their own fate in the future,—that future which will prove all the more a terrible Reality in proportion to the extent of our presumption in daring to doubt its truth.
More than four hundred guests sat down to supper in the largest pavilion,—a supper served in the most costly manner and furnished with luxuries that represented the utmost pitch [p 283] of extravagance. I ate and drank, with Sybil at my side, hardly knowing what I said or did in the whirling excitement of the hour,—the opening of champagne-bottles, the clink of glasses, the clatter of plates, the loud hum of talk interspersed with monkey-like squeals or goat-like whinnies of laughter, over-ridden at intervals by the blare of trumpet-music and drums,—all these sounds were as so much noise of rushing waters in my ears,—and I often found myself growing abstracted and in a manner confused by the din. I did not say much to Sibyl,—one cannot very well whisper sentimental nothings in the ear of one’s betrothed when she is eating ortolans and truffles. Presently, amid all the hubbub, a deep bell struck twelve times, and Lucio stood up at the end of one of the long tables, a full glass of foaming champagne in his hand—
“Ladies and gentlemen!”