"What do you want?" the Baron hissed through his teeth.
"I want to call your attention to the fact that you are the guest of this house, and that you are on the point of basely violating its proffered hospitality."
Bertram had spoken firmly, but in so low a voice that the Baron alone could hear him. His look, too, was perfectly calm; even those next to him, who saw but his face, whilst the Baron was turning his broad back upon them, could not but think that it was simply some indifferent communication.
The Baron was speechless with wrath. Bertram gave him no time to break out. He continued in the same low, incisive tone--
"I see that you quite understand me. I need scarcely add that I am at any time at your service, should you consider yourself in need of a comment upon the lesson which I have given you."
"You shall hear from me, and forthwith!"
"The sooner the better!"
He bowed slightly; then, raising his voice as he turned to the others, he said--
"A thousand pardons, gentlemen; but I was commissioned by our amiable host to remind you that his military-guests have, alas! to retire already; and that they will be wishing to bid you farewell."
As if in confirmation of Bertram's words, the music just then broke off in the adjoining ball-room, the door flew open, and quite a host of officers came rushing in. There could no longer be any question of resuming the game, even if the players had been willing, which they, however, certainly seemed not to be. Some of the older ladies had come in, looking for their husbands; some others, young ones, followed; the room was overflowing with guests; the players had difficulty in getting back to the table to pocket their stakes. Not a few of them had yet to square accounts with the Baron; they crowded round him, but he was shoving the remnant of his gains--gold coins, bank-notes, I.O.U.s--higgledy-piggledy into his pockets, and when questioned, as he constantly was, replied with surly mien and in briefest words, and repelled rather than answered their questions--muttering that they might apply to-morrow; and that, in this confusion to-night, the devil himself could neither hear nor impart information.