It was the vision of a moment. The dog sprang upon the sofa by the Duke's
side, growling and snapping.
"Reve de Noir," cried Lethal and Adonais, "drive the dog away!"
The valet had disappeared.
"I have no fear of him, gentlemen," said the Duke, patting the head of the
hound; "he is a faithful servant, and has a faculty of reading thoughts.
Go bring my servant, Demon," said the Duke.
The hound sprang away with a great bound, and in an instant Reve de Noir
was standing behind us. The dog did not appear again.
Honoria looked bewildered. "Of what dog were you speaking, Edward?"
"The hound that licked your face."
"You are joking. I saw no hound."
"See, gentlemen," exclaimed Lethal, "his Highness shows us tricks. He is a
wizard."
The three women gave little shrieks,--half pleasure, half terror.
Denslow, who had fallen back in his chair asleep, awoke and rubbed his
eyes.
"What is all this, Honoria?"
"That his Highness is a wizard," she said, with a forced laugh, glancing
at Dalton.
"Will his Highness do us the honor to lay aside the mask, and appear in
his true colors?" said Dalton, returning Honoria's glance with an
encouraging look.
"Gentlemen," said the Duke, haughtily, "I am your guest, and by
hospitality protected from insult."
"Insult, most noble Duke!" exclaimed Lethal, with a sneer,--"impossible,
under the roof of our friend, the Honorable Walter Denslow, in the small
hours of the night, and in the presence of the finest women in the world.
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