I followed, but too late. At the edge of the lake he stopped, and, stretching forth his arms toward the dancer on the column, he cried out in a voice that made the cavern ring:
"Desiree! Desiree! Desiree!"
Chapter IX.
BEFORE THE COURT.
I expected I know not what result from Harry's hysterical rashness: confusion, pandemonium, instant death; but none of these followed.
I had reached his side and stood by him at the edge of the lake, where he had halted. Desiree Le Mire stopped short in the midst of the mad sweep of the Dance of the Sun.
For ten silent, tense seconds she looked down at us from the top of the lofty column, bending dangerously near its edge. Her form straightened and was stretched to its fullest height; her white, superb body was distinctly outlined against the black background of the upper cavern. Then she stepped backward slowly, without taking her eyes from us.
Suddenly as we gazed she appeared to sink within the column itself and in another instant disappeared from view.
We stood motionless, petrified; how long I know not. Then I turned and faced our own danger. It was time.