“My goddesses, you must be quiet,” observed Bruno, with an imperative look; “we must have no singing here; silence, and instantly, if you please.”
And the women were silent.
“Captain, you must keep these ladies company; for my part, I must go my rounds.”
Bruno seized his carbine, buckled on his cartouche-box, and went towards the door; but as he was about to leave the room he stood still and listened.
“What is the matter?” said the Maltese.
“Do you not hear my dogs bark? The enemy is close at hand; they were not long behind you;—are they not fine beasts? Silence, my tigers!” continued Bruno, opening one of the windows and giving a peculiar whistle; “all right, all right, I am on my guard.”
The dogs gave a low growl and were then silent.
The women and the Maltese trembled with terror, expecting something dreadful was about to happen, and at the same moment Ali entered the room with Pascal’s favourite bitch, Lionna: the noble creature went straight up to her master, reared up on her hind legs, and placing her paws on his shoulders, she looked intelligently at him and gave a short bark.
“Yes, yes, Lionna, you are a fine beast,” said Bruno, patting the dog fondly on the head; “come on, my beauty, come along.”
And he went out, leaving the Maltese and the two women in the supper apartment.