I looked him innocently in the face. "Why, my dear Siegfried, it would be unnatural if an old Vienna theatre-goer like me did not know Seestern, the famous comic actor. I am no country cousin to be cozened in that way."
"Well, evidently we have made the reckoning without our host," said he, grumblingly. "But it is a pity. Such a capital joke it would have been, and you would have laughed most. Still, it can't be helped, so we'll make the best of the spoiled game. I see the prima donna has thrown off her rôle, so you had better go after her, Seestern, and see her safe to the château. Your monk's cowl is a protection in itself. Don't look disconcerted; you can come back. Our revel does not end yet; it has hardly begun. You, Muckicza, my dear boy, go out and get in the boys. Tell them the hunt is over; the game has broken fence."
By this time one of the Slav girls had stuffed her pockets with French candies and confectionery from the table, and the other drank off the champagne from all the glasses near. Now Siegfried looked at them, and imperatively motioned to the door. They hurried out, and "my dear friend" Siegfried and I were face to face, alone. His face wore a gloomy expression, and he said, in a courtly manner—
"Sir, I am at your service. Do you feel offended by this joke?"
I laughed outright. "I offended? Why should I? Nothing has happened to me."
"But it would have happened. We intended to give you a little 'jump.'"
"And why?"
"Oh, for nothing! Only you look so funny with that gorilla beard you wear on your face."
"Indeed? And pray how should I 'jump' as your marriage witness?"
"Has not the person who warned you betrayed the whole scheme?"