“Diablo!” replies Guy, not over pleased at what he hears. “The Englishman is very well able to take care of himself, so we’ll let him alone and return to Colonel Guido Amati.” “Apropos of him,” laughs Hermoine, “the ghost asked for dinner, I believe—Will the spectre have spiritual oysters, hobgoblin turbot and ragout from the witches’ cauldron!” and the girl who is now a picture of radiant joy, claps her hands. “No,” replies Guy, “but the ghost’ll take a giant dinner with permission of the maiden of the fairy castle, and she may put as many spirits in the wine as she likes.” “Then haste, for I’m going to kill the fatted calf for you!” And Hermoine would seize upon her knight’s hand to lead him to her bower. But Chester suddenly hesitates and mutters: “The Countess de Pariza—what will your duenna say!” “She will say nothing,” remarks Miss de Alva in airy ensouciance. “The Countess de Pariza will not be here this evening.” “No? I thought she had the State barge with her.” “Yes. She’ll keep that in Antwerp over night. She lodges with the Countess Mansfeld. Since that night—you remember it, the one I bless—that night you rescued me from the Gueux—the Countess de Pariza fears the Beggars of the Sea worse than the fiends of the other world, and though nominally she lives here, she is absent every evening that she can be. She’ll not return before to-morrow morning.” “That’s glorious,” laughs Guy, blessing in heart Dirk Duyvel and his cut-throats, “it’ll save so much trouble; I’ll visit you in the evenings. The Countess de Pariza has a woman’s tongue.” “If she has,” cries the girl, “I’ll find a curb for it!” and for one instant she looks like Alva’s daughter. “But come into the house. You’re hungry, and with your wounds you must have strengthening food. Come to supper.” To this meal Guy, who has a sailor’s if not a ghost’s appetite, suffers himself to be led; Doña Hermoine taking his arm as if she feared to lose him. Within the spacious hall of the beautiful country residence its fair mistress claps her hands, and the two Moorish girls Guy had seen before come running to her. “Alida, have a room prepared for this gentleman, who sups with me,” orders Hermoine. At which one of the maids, making obeisance before her mistress, whispers in her ear: Then Doña de Alva bursts out laughing, but says: “Certainly. He is my friend, Colonel Guido Amati, whom you must honor as you do me. Señor, when you return you will find the giant meal you asked for.”