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Slowly, and with hesitating steps, Sergius Thord mounted the long flight of stairs leading to the quiet attic which Lotys called 'home. Here she lived; here she had chosen to live ever since Thord had made her, as he said, the 'Soul of the Revolutionary Ideal. Here, since the King had conquered the Revolutionary Ideal altogether, and had made it a Loyalist centre, did she dwell still, though she had now some thoughts of yielding to the child Pequita's earnest pleading, and taking up her abode with her and her father, in a pretty little house in the suburbs which, since Pequita's success as premiere danseuse at the Opera, Sholto had been able to afford, and to look upon as something like a comfortable dwelling-place.
"Thank God for music!" said Sergius Thord, as Valdor laid aside his bow; "It exorcises the evil spirit from every modern Saul!" "Sometimes!" responded Valdor; "But I have known cases where the evil spirit has been roused by music instead of suppressed. Art, like virtue, has two sides!" Zouche was still holding Pequita's hand.
The piece went on; and more and more the passion of Pequita's pent-up little soul communicated itself to the other performers, till they found themselves almost unconsciously obeying her 'lead. At last came the grand final act, where, in accordance with the progress of the story, the bold band of 'New Christians' are fought back from the gates of the Vatican by the Papal Guard; and the Roman populace, roused to enthusiasm, gather round their defeated ranks to defend and to aid them with sympathy and support in their combat, breaking forth all together at last in the triumphant 'Song of Freedom. Truly grand and majestic was this same song, pulsating with truth and passion, breathing with the very essence of liberty, an echo of the heart and soul of strong nations who struggle, even unto death, for the lawful rights of humanity denied to them by the tyrants in place and power.
In such distraction, and with such wild cry, the night of Pequita's long-looked-for dance before the King swept stormily on towards day.
Others followed him, every man in going, shook hands with Lotys and Sergius Thord, the lamps were extinguished, and the landlord standing in the porch of his tavern watched them all file out, and bade them all a cordial farewell. Pequita's home was with her father in the house where Sergius Thord dwelt, and Lotys kissing her tenderly good-night, left her to Thord's care.
This time the King was the first to lead off the applause that hailed Pequita's dancing. And how her little feet flew! how her eyes sparkled with rapture how the dark curls tossed, and the cherry lips smiled!
Pequita's exquisite grace and agility had made her at once the fashion; the Opera was crowded nightly to see the 'wonderful child-dancer'; and valuable gifts and costly jewels were showered upon her, all of which she brought to Lotys, who advised her how to dispose of them best, and put by the money for the comfort and care of her father in the event of sickness, or the advance of age.
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