Zuleika Dobson; Or, An Oxford Love Story

X Sounds of a violin, drifting out through the open windows of the Hall, suggested that the second part of the concert had begun. All the undergraduates, however, except the few who figured in the programme, had waited outside till their mistress should re-appear. The sisters and cousins of the Judas men had been escorted back to their places and hurriedly left there. It was a hushed, tense crowd. “The poor darlings!” murmured Zuleika, pausing to survey them. “And oh,” she exclaimed, “there won’t be room for all of them in there!” “You might give an ‘overflow’ performance out here afterwards,” suggested the Duke, grimly. This idea flashed on her a better. Why not give her performance here and now?--now, so eager was she for contact, as it were, with this crowd; here, by moonlight, in the pretty glow of these paper lanterns. Yes, she said, let it be here and now; and she bade the Duke make the announcement. “What shall I say?” he asked. “‘Gentlemen, I have the pleasure to announce that Miss Zuleika Dobson, the world-renowned She-Wizard, will now oblige’? Or shall I call them ‘Gents,’ tout court?” She could afford to laugh at his ill-humour. She had his promise of obedience. She told him to say something graceful and simple. The noise of the violin had ceased. There was not a breath of wind. The crowd in the quadrangle was as still and as silent as the night itself. Nowhere a tremour. And it was borne in on Zuleika that this crowd had one mind as well as one heart--a common resolve, calm and clear, as well as a common passion. No need for her to strengthen the spell now. No waverers here. And thus it came true that gratitude was the sole motive for her display.