It was at this point that Ashcott touched him on the shoulder with a muttered word that made him turn sharply.

“What?  Who?”

“Mr. Ivor Yardley!” the manager muttered uneasily.  “He’s waiting to speak to you—­says he’ll address the men if you’ll allow him.  Think it’s safe?”

Dick frowned.  “Of course it’s safe!  Where is he?  Wait!  I’ll speak to him first.  I’ll get my wife to sing again while I do it.”  He turned round to Juliet sitting at the table behind him and bent to speak to her.  “Can you give them another song—­to fill in time?  I’ve got to speak to a man outside.”  His eyes travelled swiftly on the words to the open doorway where a tall man, wearing a motor-mask and a leather coat, stood waiting.

Juliet’s look followed his.  She stood up quickly.  “Dick!  Who is it?”

Something in her voice brought his eyes back to her in sudden close scrutiny.  For that instant he forgot the crowd of men and the need of the moment, forgot the man who waited in the background whom he had desired so urgently to see, forgot the whole world in the wide-eyed terror of her look.

Instinctively he stretched an arm behind her, but in the same moment Saltash came swiftly forward to her other side, and it was Saltash who spoke with the quick, intimate reassurance of the trusted friend.

“It’s all right, Juliette.  I’m here to take care of you.  Give them one more song, won’t you?  Afterwards, if you’ve had enough of it, I’ll take you back.”

She turned her face towards him and away from Dick whose arm fell from her unheeded; but her gaze did not leave the figure that stood waiting in the dim doorway, upright, grim as Fate, watching her with eyes she could not see.

“Don’t be afraid!” urged Saltash in his rapid whisper.  “Anyhow, don’t show it!  I’ll see you through.”

“Are you ready?” said Dick on her other side.

His voice was absolutely steady, but it fell with an icy ring, and a great quiver went through her.  She made a blind gesture towards Saltash, and in an instant his hand gripped her elbow.

“Can’t you do it?” he said.  “Are you going to drop out?”

She recovered herself sharply, as though something in his words had pierced her pride.  The next moment very quietly she turned back to Dick.

“I am quite ready,” she said.

He took her hand without a word, and led her forward.  Someone raised a cheer for her, and in a second a shout of applause thundered to the rafters.

Dick smiled a brief smile of gratitude, and lifted a hand for silence.  Then, as it fell, he stepped back.

And Juliet stood alone before the rough crowd.

Those who saw her in that moment never forgot her.  Tall and slender, with that unconsciously regal mien of hers that marked her with so indelible a stamp, she stood and faced the men below her.  But no song rose to her lips, and those who were nearest to her thought that she was trembling.