"My angel," he said, calmly, "I advise you sincerely to do the same. Retire to your chamber. Take a little tisane for the cooling of the blood, and leave all other matters to these new friends of ours. I am sure they appear very honest gentlemen. But as you have many little valuables lying about, do not forget to lock your door, as I shall mine. Adieu, my angel!"
And so from an inconceivable height of dandyism his Excellency the Duke of Rianzares would have stooped to bestow a good night salutation on his wife's cheek, had not that lady, swiftly recovering from her stupor, suddenly awarded him a resounding box on the ear, which so far discomposed the calm of his demeanour that he took from his pocket a handkerchief edged with lace, unfolded it, and with the most ineffable gesture in the world wiped the place the lady's hand had touched. Then, with the same abiding calm, he restored the cambric to his pocket, bowed low to the Queen, and lounged majestically towards the door.
Maria Cristina watched him at first with a haughty and unmoved countenance. Her hands clenched themselves close to her side, as if she wished the blow had been bestowed with the shut rather than with the open digits.
But as her husband (for so he really was, though the relationship was not acknowledged till many years after, and at the feet of the Holy Father himself in the Vatican) approached the door, opened it, and was on the point of departing without once turning round, Cristina suddenly broke into a half hysterical cry, ran after him, threw her arms tenderly about his neck, and burst out weeping on his broad bosom.
The gentleman, without betraying the least emotion, patted her tolerantly on the shoulder, and murmured some words in her ear, at the same time looking over her head at the men of the company with a sort of half-comic apology.
"Oh! Fernando, forgive me," she cried, "life of my life—the devil must have possessed me! I will cut off the wicked hand that did the deed. Give me a knife, good people—to strike the best and handsomest—oh, it was wicked—cruel, diabolical!"
Whatever may have been the moral qualities of the royal blow, Rollo felt that in their present circumstances time enough had been given to its consideration, so he interposed.
"Your Majesty, the gipsies may be upon us at any moment. It would be as well if you would summon all the servants of the palace together and arm them with such weapons as may be available!"
Maria Cristina lifted her head from the shoulder of her Ferdinand, as if she did not at first comprehend Rollo's speech, and was resolved to resent an intrusion at such a moment. Whereupon the Scot repeated his words to such good purpose that the Queen-Regent threw up her hands and cried, "Alas! this happens most unfortunately. We have only old Eugenio and a couple of lads in the whole palace since the departure of the guards!"
"Never mind," said Rollo; "let us make the best of the matter. We will muster them; perhaps they will be able to load and fire a musket apiece! If I mistake not, the fighting will be at very short range!"