"'It is perfectly clear, noble sirs,' he said. 'The house of Dhalmatia has been honoured this night with the advent of both a daughter and a son.'
"'Twins!' we cried, looking at each other and wondering why we had not thought of it before. We saw that we had been hoping against hope, and our worst fears were realized. I suppose our chagrin showed in our faces for the 'Red Fox' seemed to enjoy our discomfiture. It was not in our hearts to congratulate the old rogue. We could not lie for the sake of an empty courtesy. We mounted our horses and rode away with the discordant chuckle of the lord of Dhalmatia ringing in our ears."
"Nothing very suspicious in all that," drawled Nick, flicking his cigarette into the sea. He had probably heard the story so often that he had no interest in it.
"If I could only make you understand," sighed the General.
"But why were the servants crying?" I asked.
"That came out the next day," continued the old man, glad at least to find one willing listener; "it seems that the old midwife, who was the only person with the mother when the children were born, had fallen from the tower in some strange way when she was tugging at the bell rope to announce the birth of the girl. Her neck was broken."
"Who then rang the bell the second time?"
"The Red Fox."
"How great was the interval between the ringing?"
"There was scarcely a pause; it was almost immediate."