"You do not believe me?"
"Sapristi! I know not for sure. Maybe I help, maybe I not. First I
talk vis Señor Farnham, an' den I know vether you lie, or tell true.
Vatever ees right I do."
"Then permit me to pass."
Miss Norvell took a resolute step forward, clasping her skirts closely
to keep them from contact with the dusty scenery crowding the narrow
passage. The jealous flame within the black eyes of the Mexican dimmed.
"You can no pass dat vay," she explained swiftly, touching the other's
sleeve.
"Not through the stage door?"
The other shook her head doggedly.
"Eet is alvay locked, señorita."
Beth Norvell turned about in dismay, her eyes pleading, her breath
quickening.
"You mean we are shut in here for the night? Is n't there any way
leading out?"
"Oh, si, si," and Mercedes smiled, waving her hands. "Zar is vay
yonder vare de orchestra goes. Eet leads to de hall; I show you."
"Did he know?"
"Vat? Señor Farnham? No doubt, señorita. Come, eet ees but de step."
The bewildered American hung back, her eyes filled with dread resting
upon the black shadow of the curtain, from behind which clearly arose
the strains of a laboring orchestra, mingling with the discordant noise
of a ribald crowd. Farnham understood she was locked in; knew she
might hope to escape only through that scene of pollution; beyond
doubt, he waited in its midst to gloat over her degradation, possibly
even to accost her. She shrank from such an ordeal as though she
fronted pestilence.
"Oh, not that way; not through the dance hall!" she exclaimed.
Mercedes clapped her hands with delight. To her it appeared amusing.
"Holy Mother! Vy not? Eet make me laugh to see you so ver' nice. Vat
you 'fraid 'bout? Vas eet de men? Pah! I snap my fingers at all of
dem dis vay. Dey not say boo! But come, now, Mercedes show you vay
out vere you no meet vis de men, no meet vis anybody. Poof, eet ees
easy."
She danced lightly away, her hand beckoning, her black eyes aglow with
aroused interest. Reluctantly the puzzled American slowly followed,
dipping down into the black labyrinth leading beneath the stage. Amid
silence and darkness Mercedes grasped her arm firmly, leading
unhesitatingly forward. Standing within the glare of light streaming
through the partially open door. Miss Norvell drew a sudden breath of
relief. The chairs and benches, piled high along the side of the great
room, left a secluded passageway running close against the wall. Along
this the two young women moved silently, catching merely occasional
glimpses of the wild revelry upon the other side of that rude barrier,
unseen themselves until within twenty feet of the street door. There
Miss Norvell hesitated her anxious eyes searching the mixed crowd of
dancers now for the first time fully revealed. Even as she gazed upon
the riot, shocked into silence at the inexpressible profligacy
displayed, and ashamed of her presence in the midst of it, a merry peal
of laughter burst through the parted lips of the Mexican dancer.