"Ah! this is then the trial to which you will subject me?" answered
Gilbert with a smile upon his lips.
Stephane looked him in the face. For the first time, he could not avoid being struck by its noble expression and the clearness and purity of his glance.
Stephane was involuntarily moved, and strove in vain to conceal it by the jocular tone in which he replied:
"No, sir, it is not a test of your sincerity, but a jest which we shall do well not to push further. This animal is not amiable. Should you be unfortunate enough to irritate him, it would be impossible even for me, his master, to calm his fury. Be good enough then to leave my glove where it is, and return peaceably to your study to meditate upon some important problem in Byzantine history. That will be a trial less perilous and better proportioned to your strength. Good-evening, sir, good-night."
"Oh! permit me," replied Gilbert. "I am resolved to carry this adventure to its conclusion!"
And gently repulsing Stephane, who sought to restrain him, he walked straight toward the bulldog.
"Take care," cried the young man, shuddering, "do not trifle with that beast, or you are a dead man!"
"Take care," repeated Ivan, who, not having understood half of what had been said, hardly suspected Gilbert's intention. "Take care, this dog is a ferocious beast."
Meantime Gilbert, crossing his arms upon his breast, advanced slowly towards the bulldog, keeping his eyes steadily fixed on those of the animal, and when he thought he had disconcerted him by his undaunted gaze sufficiently to make him relax his grip upon the prize, he suddenly tore the glove from him and waved it in the air with his right hand. At the same moment Vorace, with a howl of rage, bounded up to leap at the throat of his despoiler. Gilbert sprang back, covering himself with his left arm, and the dog's jaws only grazed his shoulder. Yet when he touched the ground again, he held between his teeth a long strip of cloth, a scrap of linen, and a morsel of bloody flesh. Mad with fury the bulldog rolled over on the grass with this prize which he could hardly devour, and then suddenly, as if seized with a paroxysm of frenzy, he moved towards the castle doubling upon himself; but reaching the foot of the turret, he looked for his enemy and returned like an arrow, to pounce upon him again.
"Throw down the glove," cried Ivan, "and climb the ash."