Majesty's 99th Croat Regiment, has made a runaway match with a certain
Signorina Bianca Marinelli of Venice. Are you prepared to give me your
word of honour as a gentleman and an Englishman that you are not privy
to this affair?"

At these terrible words I felt my blood run cold. I may have lost my
presence of mind; but I don't know how I could have got out of the
dilemma even if I had preserved it.

"Your son has not yet arrived," I stammered.

He pounced upon me like a cat upon a mouse, and gripped both my arms
above the elbow. "Is he married?" he hissed, with his red nose a couple
of inches from mine.

"No," I answered, "he is not. Perhaps I had better say at once that if
you use personal violence I shall defend myself, in spite of your age."

Upon this he was kind enough to relax his hold.

"And pray, sir," he resumed, in a somewhat more temperate tone, after a
short period of reflection, "what have you to do with all this?"

"I am not bound to answer your questions, Herr Graf," I replied; "but,
as things have turned out, I have no special objection to doing so. Out
of pure good-nature to your son, who was detained by duty in Venice
at the last moment, I consented to bring the Signorina Marinelli here
yesterday, and to await his arrival, which I am now expecting."

"So you ran away with the girl, instead of Albrecht, did you? Ho, ho,