His manner was very courtly and gentle, but one spectator did not enjoy it at all. This was Eric. His thoughts would go, in spite of him, to that heavenly room where he had left a sweet and faithful wife waiting for her Joe to return. Somehow Eric felt savage to-night, and he wondered whether it would not serve this man just right if he did get into trouble with some of the envious young beaux who followed him about as though only waiting a good chance to carry off his partner by force. A traitor deserved such punishment. “I’ll never believe in a man again,” said Eric to himself, filled with shame and disgust for his sex; “by Jove! they’re all alike, a miserable crowd of deceivers, every one.” He forgot that he belonged to the same sex, and that his very indignation proved his words exaggerated, since he could not share in such evil plottings, and there must be others like him. He wandered up and down. Now and then he saw the couple, but much of the time they were lost to his view. Darrell remained near the exit. It was nearly twelve o’clock, when the order to unmask would be given. Some who did not care to remain and be recognized were already flitting. He believed those whom he watched would do likewise, and it was his desire to get outside at the same time to hear the directions given to the driver if any were uttered. Just at this moment, close by, he heard sounds of an uproar. These things are generally prevented at public balls by the presence of the police, but no officers were in sight now—perhaps they had gone into the refreshment room. Darrell instantly had a suspicion of the truth, and his eyes were immediately directed toward the _melee_. Just as he suspected, in the struggling crowd he saw the tall form of the Spanish bull fighter—the man was dealing blows right and left and had already sent several audacious assailants rolling in the dust of the hall floor. CHAPTER VII A BRAND FROM THE BURNING The detective was a man. He admired courage and grit, no matter in whom it was found, and when he saw the Spanish bull fighter holding his own against the number who had assailed him he could not but express this feeling. It seemed as though these young bloods were furious because the other kept his partner to himself, and allowed her to dance with no one else—it is always the case that a pack of such hot heads may be found at a public gathering, and trouble often ensues. Perhaps the Lady of Cards, secure behind her mask, had flirted with some of them, and had driven them wild. It is human nature to covet what we cannot have and their anger toward the giant bull fighter had grown intense. As we have seen, it culminated in what threatened to be a riot. The woman was frightened now—she trembled, and cowered behind her protector. He stood up like a rock before her. Twice his arm had shot out and on each occasion one of his assailants had gone down. They pressed him hard.