“Then you want your beloved heirs to burst with vexation?”
“I want to bury them, Johan.”
“Amen, my dear master! Shall I wait on you as far as the supper-room?”
“No, I like to go silently and take my company by surprise; just now, especially.”
The baron accordingly departed for the supper-room, and Johan went into the cabinet, where Massarelli, who was waiting with great anxiety, found the time pass very slowly.
“Come, my boy,” said Johan, with his most gracious air, “it’s supper-time.”
“But—am I not to see the baron again this evening? He told me to wait here.”
“He sends you word by me to have a quiet supper, and wait for further orders. Do you suppose you are the only person he has to listen to? Come along. Are you afraid of me? Do I look like a bad sort of fellow?”
“You do, upon my word,” said Guido to himself, as he slipped a stiletto, which he knew how to handle very skilfully, into his sleeve.
Johan espied the performance, and hurried out of the room. Guido endeavored to follow, but he was seized by two colossal fellows, who were stationed at the door, and who led him, with a pistol at his head, to the prison of the chateau. There he was searched and disarmed, and then handed over to the guardian of the place, a sort of bravo and adventurer, in short a professional villain, who was known in the chateau as “the captain,” but who never made his appearance in the saloons.