Sacharissa lifted her gray eyes.

There he stood, suspended over an abyss, smoking a cigarette, bravely forcing himself to an attitude of serene insouciance, while the basement yawned for him!  Machine or no machine, how could any girl look upon such miraculous self-control unmoved? She could not.  It was natural that a woman should be deeply thrilled by such a spectacle—­and William Destyn’s machine had nothing to do with it—­not a thing!  Neither had psychology, nor demonology, nor anything, with wires or wireless.  She liked him, frankly.  Who wouldn’t?  She feared for him, desperately.  Who wouldn’t?  She——­

“C-r-rack!”

“Oh—­what is it!” she cried, springing to the grille.

“I don’t know,” he said, somewhat pale.  “The old thing seems—­to be sliding.”

“Giving way!”

“A—­little—­I think——­”

“Mr. Vanderdynk!  I must call the police——­”

“Cr-rackle—­crack-k-k!” went the car, dropping an inch or two.

With a stifled cry she caught his hands through the bars, as though to hold him by main strength.

“Are you crazy?” he said fiercely, thrusting them away.  “Be careful!  If the thing drops you’ll break your arms!”

“I—­I don’t care!” she said breathlessly.  “I can’t let——­”

“Crack!” But the car stuck again.

“I will call the police!” she cried.

“The papers may make fun of you.”

“Was it for me you were afraid?  Oh, Mr. Vanderdynk!  What do I care for ridicule compared to—­to——­”

The car had sunk so far in the shaft now that she had to kneel and put her head close to the floor to see him.

“I will only be a minute at the telephone,” she said.  “Keep up courage; I am thinking of you every moment.”

“W-will you let me say one word?” he stammered.

“Oh, what?  Be quick, I beg you.”

“It’s only goodbye—­in case the thing drops.  May I say it?”

“Y-yes—­yes!  But say it quickly.”

“And if it doesn’t drop after all, you won’t be angry at what I’m going to say?”

“N-no.  Oh, for Heaven’s sake, hurry!”

“Then—­you are the sweetest woman in the world!...  Goodbye—­Sacharissa—­ dear.”

She sprang up, dazed, and at the same moment a terrific crackling and splintering resounded from the shaft, and the car sank out of sight.

Faint, she swayed for a second against the balustrade, then turned and ran downstairs, ears strained for the sickening crash from below.

There was no crash, no thud.  As she reached the drawing-room landing, to her amazement a normally-lighted elevator slid slowly down, came to a stop, and the automatic grilles opened quietly.

As Killian Van K. Vanderdynk crept forth from the elevator, Sacharissa’s nerves gave way; his, also, seemed to disintegrate; and they stood for some moments mutually supporting each other, during which interval unaccustomed tears fell from the gray eyes, and unaccustomed words, breathed brokenly, reassured her; and, altogether unaccustomed to such things, they presently found themselves seated in a distant corner of the drawing-room, still endeavoring to reassure each other with interclasped hands.