the tray with the three silver dishes of dessertbefore Suzanne, that she might put on them the final sprinkling ofdelicate silver candies. Daintily, Suzanne sifted the shining bubblesover the fluff of cream. Eric, watching her, felt very little surprizewhen he saw Suzanne, with almost legerdemain deftness, sift upon onedish a film of pinkish powder which could not be detected after it layon the pink cream.
Waiting, he knew not for what moment, he watched Suzanne pass thesilver dishes herself, saw her offer the one with the powdered top toJohn. And it was then that their attention was attracted by theentrance of the maltese kitten. So tiny it was, so brave in itscareening totter across the shiny floor, small tail hoisted like asail, that John and Eric laughed aloud.
Suzanne merely glanced down at the little creature and turned away.The kitten, however, came to her chair, put up a tiny paw and caughtits curved claws in the fragile stuff of Suzanne's gown. Instantly,her face became distorted with rage and she kicked out at the kitten,savagely, and with set lips. It seemed to Eric that the amethysts onthe Medici boots winked wickedly in the light of the big chandelier.
The kitten was flung some ten feet away, and lay in a small, pantingheap.
John sprang up. "Suzanne! How could you?" He took the kitten in hisarms and soothed it.
"Why its heart's beating like a trip-hammer," he said. "I don'tunderstand, Suzanne----"
As the kitten grew quiet, he took a large rose-leaf from thetable-flowers and spread it with a heaping spoonful of the pink creamfrom his dessert. Then he put the kitten on the floor beside it.
"Here, little one. Lick this up. It's fancy eating. Suzanne's sorry. Iknow she is."
The kitten, with the greed of its kind, devoured the cream, coveringits small nose and whiskers with a pinkish film. Suzanne sat back inher chair, fingering her bracelets, her eyes on Eric's face. Johnwatched the kitten, and Eric watched, too--watched tensely, for hesensed what would happen to it.
The kitten finished the cream, licked its paws and whiskers and turnedto walk away. Then it spun around in a frantic convulsion, and in amoment lay dead on its back, its tiny fed tongue protruding, its pawsrigid.
Outside, the storm glowered, and in the chartreuse light of the forkedlightning, the great chandelier was turned to a sickly radiance.Thunder rolled like muffled drums.
Suddenly Suzanne began to laugh, peal after peal of terrible laughter,and then, after a glare of lightning, the big chandelier winked out.The room was plunged into stormy darkness, and they could hear therain lashing through the garden to hurl itself against the windows.
"Don't be frightened, Suzanne." It was John's solicitous voice, and itwas followed by a quick movement from Suzanne's side of the table.
A sheet of blue-green light illumined the room for an instant, andEric saw Suzanne struggling in her husband's arms, one jeweled armuplifted and in her hand a shining dagger.
* * * * *
With a bound that was almost involuntary, Eric reached them and struckat the knife in Suzanne's hand. It clattered to the floor. And asthough the fury of the storm and Suzanne's madness both were spent,the slashing rain and the lightning stopped abruptly, and Suzanneceased to struggle.
"Light the candles, Eric--quickly--on the mantel to your right!Suzanne is hurt!"
In the candle-light, palely golden and swaying, Eric saw Suzanneslumped limply in John's arms. The hem of her golden dress was redlywet and one cream-colored little shoe was fast becoming soaked withblood from a slash across the instep.
"Let's get her over to the window-seat, Eric. Do something forher!--Oh, sweet-heart, don't moan like that!" There was no question orreproach in John's voice, only compassion.
Eric took off his coat, rolled up his sleeves. His mouth was grimlyset, his hands steady, his voice crisply professional. "Take off thoseshoes, John. She'll--be herself, then. I mean that she'll beSuzanne--not a murderess of the Medicis. Take them off, John! They'reat the bottom of this."
"You mean----" John's voice was breathless, his lips trembling.
"I mean those hellish boots have changed Suzanne from a sweet andlovely girl to--well, do as I tell you. I'll be back with gauze andsome things I need."
When Eric hurried back, there were three servants grouped at thedining-room door. He spoke to them bruskly and they left, wide-eyedand whispering. Eric closed the door.
While the wet leaves tapped against the windows and stars struggledthrough the clouds, Eric worked, silently, expertly, grimly, by thelight of a flashlight held in John's unsteady hands and the light ofthe flickering candles. The house lights were all snuffed out by thestorm.
"There," Eric gave a satisfied grunt. The brothers stood looking atSuzanne, who seemed asleep. Her golden dress glimmered in thecandle-light and the pearls were slipping from her dark hair. TheMedici boots lay in a limp and bloody heap in a corner, where Eric hadflung them.
"When she awakes, I shouldn't tell her about any of this, if I wereyou, John."
"There are things you haven't told me, Eric, aren't there? Thingsabout--the Medici boots?"
Eric looked steadily at his brother. "Yes, old fellow; and after I've toldyou, those boots must be destroyed. We'll burn them before this night isover. We mustn't move her now. We'll go out on the terrace--it's wetthere, but the air is fresh. Did you smell--something peculiar?"
For, as they passed the corner where the Medici boots lay slashed andbloody, Eric could have sworn that there came to him a horrid odor,fetid, hotly offensive--the odor of iniquity and ancient bloody death.
* * * * *
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