were standing in a big and sumptuous drawing-room. A company of
gentlemen sat near us in arm-chairs; there were at least a score of
them. Round tables of old mahogany stood near, on which were
glasses and packs of cards and wine-bottles. The young man who sat
with the general and answered to "your Lordship" was approaching
me, hand extended.

"Glad to see you; sit down," he said in the same quiet, languid,
forceful tone I had heard before.

It was all very odd. The guards were gone; we were apparently as
free as any of them.

"I shall try to make you comfortable," he remarked. A servant
began filling a row of glasses. "We have here wine and wit and all
the accessories, including women. I should introduce you, but I
have not the honor of your acquaintance. Let it suffice to say
these are my friends" (he turned to those who sat about), "and,
gentlemen, these are my enemies," he added, turning to us. "Let us
hope they may die happy."

"And with a fighting chance," I added, lifting the glass without
tasting it.

D'ri sat, his brows lifted, his hands in his pockets, his legs
crossed. He looked curiously from one to another.

"Horton," said his Lordship, as he sat down, leaning lazily on the
arm of his chair, "will you have them bring down the prisoners?"