The Birmingham age-herald. [volume] (Birmingham, Ala.) 1902-1950, 1924-05-07

question. Yeti was open house this
night, and SO even dresser was well
come, provided there was somebody to
escort her.
Elise danced with Kendrick and
found thrill in it which she had
never found in the old dances back at
the convent. To have his arm about
her, to be 30 close to him, to look
up into his eyes, smiling down upon
her, TO know the intimacy Of the svelte
movement made magic By the music
and the lights and the glamour of it
all, lifted her high on a,wave of imagi-
native emotiona1ism.
She felt she could have danced for
all eternity with him; have danced on
and on until the end Of the world. OF
the morrow, of DIR. Lapierre, of Lo-
lette and Mordac and Brunei, and those
people who latterly seemed gathered
about her like vultures waiting for the
death, she thought not at all. They
we're forgotten in the joyous intoxica-
ton of the hour; and forgotten, also,
was the fact that Kendrick was but a
visitor to Paris, that one day--soon--
he must go back to his own place and
remain there.
Two hours slipped by. The gaiety
maenums were rapidly emptying. The
music seemed swifter, fiercef, more saw
age. The dancing now lacked all grace
and elaboration, and was a wild hurt
ling of close locked bodies. Eyes, pre-
viously bright, were now aflame. The
light, easy laughter had become shrill,
breaking high on quick top note.
The singing to the dance tunes was
discordant and loud.
Elise found something menacing in
it, and was glad Of the company OF
Kendrick.
Across the lawn she could see Lo-
lette, sitting on the shoulders OF two
men, holding aloft bottle In one hand
and a champagne cup in the other.
She was pouring the champagne over
the head of one of her supporters.
Her voice was shrill, like the voice
of high wind.
Il anoint thee y she cried. II anoint
thee-my messenger J" She chrieked
with laughter and flung the bottle and
the cup under the shadow Of the great
carved hedge. Her yellow eyes hared
round more dreadfully than ever Elise
had seen them--flared round, resting
momentarily on Brunei, standing on
the terrace above, resting on Kendrick,
on Mordac-Elise.
She cried: "Messenger-away! Tel
them to play my Dance OF Witches
Away
She slid from their shoulders and
came to the center of the lawn, which
had cleared for her, 60 that she stood
alone, posturing, devilishly beautiful
and evil, her expressive white arms
flung wide.
The man she had "anointed" went. to
do, her bidding, and at once the fox
tr6t stopped to be succeeded imme-
diately by the weird, grooming strains
Of that music which Loiette called her
Dance of Witches.
Elise knew this dance. Often she had
performed its various phases IN the
dressing room, SO that old Heloise and
the others might laugh and be happy.
1t was based on the searching out OF
witches in Zulu kraal, Toilette being
the searcher and those whom she Sc
lected--a '.crowd" being staged for the
occasion--joined with her in a mad,
savage whirl of dancing at the close.
She began to dance. : 1t was indie
scribably wicked, stink, stealthy moye-.
ment, hands and arms gesturing with
a meaning no words could tell, while
on them all was silence, save for the
bestial music which crept out from the
trees like the voice of Darkest Africa
Turing souls to destruction.
Mordac, standing back with the rest,
wondered for a moment what Toilette
should choose to give this free show;
and then saw Brunei and began to un-
derstand. 1t was sheer cunning, he
realized, which had prompted it. She
would pick out that girl Elise-pick
her out and make her dance. Brunei
would see her, would realize that she
might be better employed than in a
dressing room; she would 60 through
his hands, as Lolette had said, and
that would be the end. For Brunei had
a way with him.
Mordac felt more than usually inter
ested.
Perhaps Lolette danced never SO well
before as on that night when she
danced for the staying Of soul and
the wiping out Of young girls sweet
innocence. Her supple body was vi
brant with the spirit of evil the dance |
portrayed her hand, her eyes, her lips
all contributed their share to the pic. |
ture. The foulness of all the ages |
was written vivid under Bruners my
Rad lamps, as she crept and twisted, |
stayed and rushed.
From one to the other she went, |
pushing her white, crimson slashed face |
close to their pointing, rejecting, beck
oning. None did she chose-none, |
walking swift round the inside edge of |
the circle, like a Gagged tigress-until |
she reached Elise.
She stopped, and Elise could feel her |
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