was quite unnecessarily solicitous for my safety,
and took the trouble to put me under lock and key."

Doom fingered the bristles of his chin in a manifest perturbation.
"He--he did that, did he?" said he, like one seeking to gain time for
further reflection. And when Count Victor waited some more sympathetic
comment, "It was--it was very stupid, very stupid of Mungo," said he.

"Stupid!" echoed Count Victor ironically. "Ah! so it was. I should not
have said stupid myself, but it so hard, is it not, for a foreigner
to find the just word in his poor vocabulary? For a _betise_ much less
unpleasant I have scored a lackey's back with a scabbard. Master Mungo
had an explanation, however, though I doubted the truth of it."

"And what was that?"

"That you would be angry if he permitted me to get into danger while I
was your guest,--an excuse more courteous than convincing."

"He was right," said Doom, "though I can scarcely defend the manner of
executing his trust: I was not to see that he would make a trepanning
affair of it. I'm--I'm very much grieved, Count, much grieved, I assure
you: I shall have a word or two on the matter the morn's morning with
Mungo. A stupid action! a stupid action! but you know the man by this
time--an oddity out and out."

"A little too much so, if I may take the liberty, M. le Baron,--a little
too much so for a foreigner's peace of mind," said Count Victor softly.
"Are you sure, M. le Baron, there are no traitors in Doom?" and he
leaned forward with his gaze on the Baron's face.

The Baron started, flushed more crimson than before, and turned an
alarmed countenance to his interrogator. "Good God!" he cried, "are you
bringing your doubts of the breed of us to my hearthstone?"

"It is absurd, perhaps," said Count Victor, still very softly, and
watching his host as closely as he might, "but Mungo--"

"Pshaw! a good lowland heart! For all his clowning, Count, you might
trust him with your life."

"The other servant then--the woman?"

Doom looked a trifle uneasy. "Hush!" said he, with half a glance behind
him to the door. "Not so loud. If she should hear!" he stammered: he
stopped, then smiled awkwardly. "Have ye any dread of an Evil Eye?" said
he.

"I have no dread of the devil himself, who is something more tangible,"
replied Count Victor. "You do not suggest that malevolent influence in
Mistress Annapla, do you?"

"We are very civil to her in these parts," said Doom, "and I'm not kee