“‘Gentlemen,’ said the count, ‘let us understand each other. You are my prisoners—’
“‘Our time may come,’ interrupted Brackenbury.
“‘You are a bold man to talk thus. I have but to hold up a finger and you would be dragged hence and strangled. But you are my guests as well as prisoners. If ransomed you will leave this house unharmed. If not—’
“‘You will kill us, eh?’
“Dolosa shrugged his shoulders.
“‘’Tis the fortune of war,’ he said.
“An hour or two after dinner on the same night Dolosa was lounging on the broad terrace along with his prisoner guests. A round moon was mirrored in a lake some distance beneath them, where antlered deer could be seen drinking; stars were shining in the sky, and on earth as well, for fireflies flitted refulgent from bush to bush.
“Hidden somewhere behind the foliage of an upper balcony was a string band that had been discoursing music of a strange, half-wild, but dreamy nature that accorded well with scene and time. The music had just died away, and there was nothing to be heard but an occasional plash in the lake, the hum of insects, and the steady hiss of the gushing fountains.
“‘’Pon my word,’ said Brackenbury, who had dined well, ‘you have a very nice little place here. Pity you’re such a rase—’
“‘A what—eh?’ said Dolosa, quietly, interrupting him.