Supper was being served in the boxes, and presently the waiters laid the
table and set out the oysters and gallantine and the other good things
Fru Bjork had ordered. Ragna could not eat, but the champagne did her
good, and she clinked glasses with the others and joked in so lively a
way as to set Fru Bjork's mind quite at rest on her account. Gaiety was
in the air, the merry din became deafening. As the girl looked about she
interpreted it to herself. "Let us eat, drink and be merry, for
to-morrow we die!" A feverish excitement seized her; her lips burned and
her eyes glittered through the mask, she had unhooked her domino at the
neck on account of the heat, and her white throat throbbed in its black
frame. Astrid expressed a desire to walk about below and Ragna seconded
her--she felt that she must get up and move about, or she must scream.
Count Lotten offered himself as escort.
"It will be quite proper," he assured Fru Bjork, "I shall be responsible
for the young ladies' safety,--in half an hour we shall be back here
again."
He told Astrid to take his arm and let Ragna take hers,--"and be sure to
stick together."
Down on the floor they pushed as best they could through the excited,
perspiring crowd, laughing, shrieking, gesticulating, mad with the
Carnival. Astrid laughed excitedly.
"I should like one turn, just one turn of this valse," she pleaded.
Lotten smiled down at her.
"But it is impossible, we can't leave Fröken Ragna!"
"Oh," said Ragna, "please don't stop on my account! I shall stand
against the side here, under this box, and be quite safe. You can come
back for me here!"
The Count hesitated but the desire for a dance with Astrid overcame his
scruples and he acquiesced. Ragna took up her position under the box, as
she had said, and Lotten and Astrid whirled past, then were swallowed up
in the crowd.
Ragna stood watching the brilliant scene. The noise and the recurrent
rhythm of the dance music aroused a certain wildness within her,--the
latent savagery hidden in the hearts of all of us. As the tide rose
within her she grew defiant and reckless--she had lost that which a girl
holds most precious, why should she observe any restraint, had not the
bonds of conventionality been snapped for her? Would she not be
justified in flinging all constraint to the winds, in giving free rein
to the wildest impulses of her nature? "It's of no use keeping the
stable-door locked when the horse is stolen," she reflected bitterly.
Her foot tapped the floor in time to the music, the whirling crowd
fascinated her, drew her as to a vortex, it was a critical moment. "_He_
had no scruples, why should I have any henceforward?" she asked herself.
"'_Carpe diem_,' he used to say,--well, I say it now and I mean it!" She
stepped out from the wall.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account