Safety Curtain, The 
 
Project Gutenberg's The Safety Curtain, and Other Stories, by Ethel M. 
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Title: The Safety Curtain, and Other Stories 
Author: Ethel M. Dell 
Release Date: September 4, 2005 [EBook #16651] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE 
SAFETY CURTAIN *** 
 
Produced by Suzanne Shell, Paul Ereaut and the Online Distributed 
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THE SAFETY CURTAIN AND OTHER STORIES 
by 
ETHEL M. DELL
AUTHOR OF:- 
The Hundreth Chance Greatheart The Lamp in the Desert The Tidal 
Wave The Top of the World The Obstacle Race The Way of an Eagle 
The Knave of Diamonds The Rocks of Valpré The Swindler The 
Keeper of the Door Bars of Iron Rosa Mundi Etc. 
GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS NEW YORK 
Made in the United States of America 
This edition is issued under arrangement with the publishers 
G.P. Putnam's Sons, New York and London 
Made in the United States of America 
The Knickerbocker Press, New York 
 
CONTENTS 
The Safety Curtain 
The Experiment 
Those Who Wait 
The Eleventh Hour 
The Place of Honour 
 
The Safety Curtain 
CHAPTER I 
THE ESCAPE
A great shout of applause went through the crowded hall as the 
Dragon-Fly Dance came to an end, and the Dragon-Fly, with quivering, 
iridescent wings, flashed away. 
It was the third encore. The dance was a marvellous one, a piece of 
dazzling intricacy, of swift and unexpected subtleties, of almost 
superhuman grace. It must have proved utterly exhausting to any 
ordinary being; but to that creature of fire and magic it was no more 
than a glittering fantasy, a whirl too swift for the eye to follow or the 
brain to grasp. 
"Is it a boy or a girl?" asked a man in the front row. 
"It's a boy, of course," said his neighbour, shortly. 
He was the only member of the audience who did not take part in that 
third encore. He sat squarely in his seat throughout the uproar, 
watching the stage with piercing grey eyes that never varied in their 
stern directness. His brows were drawn above them--thick, straight 
brows that bespoke a formidable strength of purpose. He was plainly a 
man who was accustomed to hew his own way through life, despising 
the trodden paths, overcoming all obstacles by grim persistence. 
Louder and louder swelled the tumult. It was evident that nothing but a 
repetition of the wonder-dance would content the audience. They yelled 
themselves hoarse for it; and when, light as air, incredibly swift, the 
green Dragon-Fly darted back, they outdid themselves in the madness 
of their welcome. The noise seemed to shake the building. 
Only the man in the front row with the iron-grey eyes and iron-hard 
mouth made no movement or sound of any sort. He merely watched 
with unchanging intentness the face that gleamed, ashen-white, above 
the shimmering metallic green tights that clothed the dancer's slim 
body. 
The noise ceased as the wild tarantella proceeded. There fell a deep 
hush, broken only by the silver notes of a flute played somewhere 
behind the curtain. The dancer's movements were wholly without sound.
The quivering, whirling feet scarcely seemed to touch the floor, it was a 
dance of inspiration, possessing a strange and irresistible fascination, a 
weird and meteoric rush, that held the onlookers with bated breath. 
It lasted for perhaps two minutes, that intense and trancelike stillness; 
then, like, a stone flung into glassy depths, a woman's scream rudely 
shattered it, a piercing, terror-stricken scream that brought the rapt 
audience back to earth with a shock as the liquid music of the flute 
suddenly ceased. 
"Fire!" cried the voice. "Fire! Fire!" 
There was an instant of horrified inaction, and in that instant a tongue 
of flame shot like a fiery serpent through the closed curtains behind the 
dancer. In a moment the cry was caught up and repeated in a dozen 
directions, and even as it went from mouth to mouth the safety-curtain 
began to descend. 
The dancer was forgotten, swept as it were from the minds of the 
audience as an insect whose life was of no account. From the back of 
the stage came a roar like the roar of an open furnace. A great wave of 
heat rushed into the hall, and people turned like terrified, stampeding 
animals and made for the exits. 
The Dragon-Fly still stood behind the footlights poised as if for flight, 
glancing this way and that, shimmering from head to foot in the awful 
glare that spread behind the descending curtain. It was evident    
    
		
	
	
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