"Mr. Brand!" He spoke imperatively. "Mr. Brand!"
The master glanced up with one eye. "Well," he asked. "What's the matter with you?"
"You forget yourself!"
"Not at all. I observe that Prince Ali claps his hands to call a servant. The servant appears, and does well to stand awaiting my orders. You may go." Brand dearly loved a fight.
The Duke flushed scarlet. "Sir, you insult me!"
"If it is possible," said Brand. "Were you listening outside, or did you wear felt slippers? I should have heard you in that paved corridor."
The Duke struck Brand across the face. The American remained perfectly still in his seat, laughing slightly, but otherwise unmoved.
"Thank you," he said; "exactly what I wanted. Shall it be swords or revolvers?"
"This is ridiculous; I cannot stoop to fight a commoner."
"Your Royal Highness prefers to be publicly thrashed?"