Baroni made a quick movement toward him.
“An instant, my lord! This intimately concerns yourself. The steps of an hotel are surely not the place in which to speak of it?”
“I wish to hear nothing about it,” replied Rock, putting him aside; while he thought to himself regretfully, “That is 'stiff,' that bit of paper; perhaps some poor wretch is in a scrape. I wish I hadn't so wholly denied my signature. If the mischief's done, there's no good in bothering the fellow.”
The Seraph's good nature was apt to overlook such trifles as the Law.
Baroni kept pace with him as he approached the hotel door, and spoke very low.
“My lord, if you do not listen, worse may befall the reputation both of your regiment and your friends.”
The Seraph swung round; his careless, handsome face set stern in an instant; his blue eyes grave, and gathering an ominous fire.
“Step yonder,” he said curtly, signing the Hebrew toward the grand staircase. “Show that person to my rooms, Alexis.”
But for the publicity of the entrance of the Badischer Hof the mighty right arm of the Guardsman might have terminated the interview then and there, in different fashion. Baroni had gained his point, and was ushered into the fine chambers set apart for the future Duke of Lyonnesse. The Seraph strode after him, and as the attendant closed the door and left them alone in the first of the great lofty suite, all glittering with gilding, and ormolu, and malachite, and rose velvet, and Parisian taste, stood like a tower above the Jew's small, slight form; while his words came curtly, and only by a fierce effort through his lips.
“Substantiate what you dare to say, or my grooms shall throw you out of that window! Now!”