"Our host is a magician!" cried Lady Fermanagh.

"You certainly seem to be something of a magician, Don Carlos, and your
castle is something like Aladdin's cave," Myra remarked to her host as
she was dancing with him later in the evening in the great hall.

"Myra, darling, have I found the magic to make your heart respond to
the call of love?" asked Don Carlos in a low voice. "My castle lacks
nothing save a mistress, and all my heart is craving for you, its ideal
mate. I love you, love you, love you, mia cara, with all the strength
and passion of my being. Confess that you love me, darling, and say
you will be mine."

Myra found herself compelled to look into his glittering dark eyes,
felt as if she were being hypnotised, and it was only by an effort of
will that she broke the spell he seemed to be casting on her.

"It isn't fair to take advantage of your position as host to make love
to me again," she protested, annoyed to find her heart throbbing
tumultuously and her cheeks burning. "You are quite a wonderful
person, but I do not intend to give you the opportunity to justify your
boasts."

"Who knows but what I may make the opportunity, Myra, and take you in
spite of yourself?" Don Carlos responded. "Here I am a king, and none
dares dispute my authority, save El Diablo Cojuelo."

"If you persist in talking like that, I shall not feel safe in your
house," said Myra. "That sounded like a veiled threat, Don Carlos, and
you are not playing the game."

"There are no set rules to the game of love, dear lady, and I am
playing to win," retorted Don Carlos, scarcely above a whisper.
"Listen for your lover at midnight."

At heart Myra was a little scared, although her pride would not permit
her to acknowledge the fact. She remembered how she had been awakened
at dead of night at Auchinleven, with the impression strong upon her
that someone had touched her, and had found Don Carlos's note on her
pillow. She remembered his threats or promises to take her in spite of
everything...

Most of the guests were tired after their long journey, and the party
broke up about eleven o'clock. Myra went to her own grey and rose
bedroom, declined the services of the waiting maid and carefully bolted
the door after bidding the girl good-night.

"What did he mean by telling me to listen for my lover at midnight?"
she wondered. "What am I scared about? He surely wouldn't be so
dastardly as to force his way into my room...