The "Bella Union" had two long wings, perhaps thirty feet apart, running at right angles with its façade toward the rear. In the second story of one wing there were sleeping rooms. Both stories of the opposite wing were occupied by the theatre. The latter was quite dark, and hither Bellario conducted Harding after they had met in the saloon below.
"Be silent," whispered the "Demon," when they met—"be silent and follow."
Up two winding staircases, then through a long passage, and they stood in a gallery over the stage and directly facing the other wing.
"Look!" said the "Demon"; "he's there now!" He still whispered, for the night was hot and windows were everywhere open. Through one of these directly opposite Harding distinctly saw Miss Tinsel. She was talking earnestly with some one not in sight. Harding gazed breathlessly and listened. Presently a second figure came between the window and the light within. It was that of a tall, handsome man with dark eyes. He replied to the girl with earnestness equal to her own, but in tones as carefully suppressed. As the eyes of the observers got used to the situation, they descried a bed on the further side of the room. On this Miss Tinsel, after a time, sat down. The man followed and seated himself by her side. A moment or two more, and he took both her hands and clasped them in his own. They still talked, obviously with deep feeling, and at last Miss Tinsel threw her arms around her companion's neck and kissed him.
"Enough," hoarsely exclaimed Harding. "Enough—and more than enough!"
"You'll wait no longer?" asked the other.
"Not an instant. Can't you conceive, man—you who profess yourself to have cared for her—what a hell this is?"
"I've been through it before," muttered the "Demon," "and the wound isn't quite so fresh."
They descended in silence to the saloon, and there Harding spoke more freely:
"See here—you've saved me from a great peril—and although I think I had rather you had shot me outright, you deserve no less gratitude. If you want help—money—for instance——"