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Updated: June 7, 2025
With a powerful constitution, he had kept his general health fairly, though strange fits of depression had consumed him of late, and the old strong spring and resilience seemed going, if not gone, from his mind and body. He was not that powerful virile animal of the day when he caught Al'mah in his arms and carried her off the stage at Covent Garden.
By Jingo, Al'mah was as near having her beauty spoiled as any woman ever was; but she's only got a few nasty burns on the arm and has singed her hair a little." "You've seen her to-day, then?" Stafford looked at him with some curiosity, for the event was one likely to rouse a man's interest in a woman.
He straightened out his shoulders and eyed the hills in front of him with a calculating air, as though he were planning the tactics of the fight to come. "We'll all be in it even you, ma'am," insinuated the First to Al'mah with a friendly nod. "But I'd ruther 'ave my job nor yours.
I know of what stuff you are, how you had the soul and body of one of the most credulous and wonderful women in the world in your hands, and you went scavenging. From Al'mah to the flower-girl! ... I think I should like to kill you myself for what you tried to do to Jigger's sister; and if it wasn't here" he handled the little steel weapon with an eager fondness "I think I'd do it.
He was pale, but he had an air of determination. Once he staggered with dizziness, then he righted himself and smiled at some one near. That some one winked at his neighbour. "It's true, then, what we hear about him," the neighbour said, and suggestively raised fingers to his mouth. Al'mah sang as perhaps she had seldom sung.
She felt as though she must fall, but she reasserted her strength, and slowly regained her balance, withdrawing her hands from those of Al'mah. "He is alive he is alive he is alive," she kept repeating to herself like one in a dream. Then she added hastily, with an effort to bear herself with courage: "Where is he? Take me." Al'mah motioned, and in a moment they were inside the house.
But, Al'mah, no matter what you feel about me, you must keep your engagement to sing here. The people in there, a hundred of the best people of the county " "The best people of the county such abject snobbery!" she retorted, sharply. "Do you think that would influence me? You ought to know me well enough but that's just it, you do not know me. I realize it at last. Listen now.
I will not sing to-night, and you will go and tell Mrs. Byng so." Once again she turned away, but her exit was arrested by another voice, a pleasant voice, which said: "But just one minute, please. Mr. Fellowes is quite right.... Fellowes, won't you go and say that Madame Al'mah will be there in five minutes?" It was Ian Stafford.
Her face flushed prettily with excitement. "I want to hear all about this empire-making, or losing, affair; but there are other things to be settled first. There's my opera-cloak and the breakfast in the prima donna's boudoir, and " "But, how did you know it was Al'mah?" he asked blankly. "Why, where else would my cloak be?" she inquired with a little laugh.
A Welsh preaching hillman, carried away by the triumph of the moment, gave the great tragedy the bugle-note of human joy and pride. Ian Stafford and Brengyn and Jim Gawley had conquered. The limp bodies carried past Al'mah were not dead. They were living, breathing men whom fresh air and a surgeon's aid would soon restore.
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