"It is not," said Lady Ormstork with dignity--and that aristocratic matrimonial agent could be very dignified when she chose--"the fashion among English gentlemen to indulge in absurd threats when their pretensions are rejected. In this country we took leave of the Dark Ages long ago." "Absurd threats, eh?" the little duke repeated, with a laugh which fell chill and jarring on, at any rate, Gage's ear. "We shall see. Yes, we shall see--those of us"--he glanced fiercely round the room--"who are alive next week--how far my threats are vain." "Ridiculous nonsense!" Lady Ormstork exclaimed with a scornful and somewhat stagey laugh. The duke bowed. "I have the honour, most illustrious lady, to receive your ultimatum, and to accept it. It is horribly unfortunate that we find ourselves diametrically opposed. But so it is; and I have no more to say--to you, except to bid you _au revoir_, with my most distinguished compliments." He bowed very low to her, then to Ulrica, after which with a kind of fiendish politeness to each of the three men, taking Gage with marked intention last. "Milord Quorn," he said, drawing back his lips till his moustache stood up like two wings against his cheeks, "I regret that my friendly hint has not been taken. You have called the game. I shall have the honour of playing it--as," he raised his voice, "as my honoured and distinguished ancestors have always played it." "Don't talk nonsense, duke," said Lady Ormstork sharply. The representative of the distinguished and bloodthirsty Saloljas raised himself abruptly from a bow he was elaborating, and faced the lady. "A Salolja," he said, with as much dignity as a short stature coupled with a long nose is capable of, "never talks nonsense." "If you presume," she continued threateningly, "to annoy Lord Quorn----" "A Salolja," he interrupted, with a significant smile, "never annoys." "Or threaten--' pursued Lady Ormstork. "A Salolja," he returned, with a Castilian gesture of deprecation, "never threatens. It is only within the last hundred and fifty years that he has condescended to warn." "We can warn too," retorted the lady doggedly. "Warn the police." The duke looked quite tickled. "Most gracious lady," he replied, showing his teeth in a grin from which none of his male listeners derived any mirth, "you make me smile. I think the question of your police we have already analysed, I and the excellent Lord Quorn. If your graces have no more notable argument to put forth to arrest the traditions of the Saloljas I will ask your gracious permission to take my leave--for the present." He accompanied the last three words with a glance which boded battle, murder and sudden death to at least one of his hearers. Then, with a sweeping bow, he turned to the door. "Stop!" cried Gage in a voice resonant with fear. "You are all making a mistake. I am not Lord Quorn!" CHAPTER XXXV