But whilst she came loping towards him, Bellarion, grown audacious in his continued immunity, was patting the heads and flanks of the dogs already about him and speaking to them coaxingly, in response to which the Duke beheld them leaping and barking in friendliness about him. When presently the terrible Messalina was seen to behave in the same fashion, the excitement in the Duke's following shed its last vestige of restraint. Opinions were divided between those who cried 'Miracle!' with the impious yet credulous Squarcia, and those who cried 'Witchcraft!' with Messer Francesco Lonate, the gentleman of the falcon. In the Duke's own mind some fear began to stir. Whether of God or devil, only supernatural intervention could explain this portent. He spurred forward, his followers moving with him, and Bellarion, as he looked upon the awe-stricken countenances of that ducal company, was moved to laughter. Reaction from his palsy of terror had come in a mental exaltation, like the glow that follows upon immersion in cold water. He was contemptuous of these fellows, and particularly of Squarcia and his grooms who, whilst presumably learned in the ways of dogs, were yet incapable of any surmise by which this miracle might be naturally explained. Mockery crept into that laugh of his, a laugh that brought the scowl still lower upon the countenance of the Duke. 'What spells do you weave, rascal? By what artifice do you do this?' 'Spells?' Bellarion stood boldly before him. He chose to be mysterious, to feed their superstition. He answered with a proverb that made play upon the name he had assumed. 'Did I not tell you that I am Cane? Dog will not eat dog. That is all the magic you have here.' 'An evasion,' said Lonate, like one who thinks aloud. The Duke flashed him a sidelong glance of irritation. 'Do I need to be told?' Then to Bellarion: 'This is a trick, rogue. God's Blood! I am not to be fooled. What have you done to my dogs?' 'Deserved their love,' said Bellarion, waving a hand to the great beasts that still gambolled about him. 'Aye, aye, but how?' 'How? Does any one know how love is deserved of man or beast? Loose the rest of your pack. There's not a dog in it will do more than lick my hands. Dogs,' he added, again with a hint of mysteries, 'have perceptions oft denied to men.' 'Perceptions, eh? But what do they perceive?' And Bellarion yielding to his singular exaltation laughed again as he answered: 'Ah! Who shall say?' The Duke empurpled. 'Do you mock me, filth?' Lonate, who was afraid of wizardry, laid a hand upon his arm. But the Duke shook off that admonitory grasp. 'You shall yield me your secret. You shall so, by the Host!' He turned to the gaping Squarcia. 'Call off the dogs, and make the knave fast. Fetch him along.'