ixed in among the guests.

At this moment the gaunt figure of Alba, in the shape of their friend
Schnetz, stepped out of the awe-struck crowd, advanced to the
astonished pair, and, taking them aside, told them all that had passed
while they had been out in the garden, pouring out their hearts to one
another in utter ignorance of what was going on within. In what
connection these puzzling occurrences stood to one another, the
lieutenant did not pretend to know. When they recovered from the first
shock, and looked about for the author of the whole trouble, they
discovered that she had disappeared from the hall with the young Greek.

Rosenbusch then joined them, and Angelica and Elfinger. The
battle-painter was plunged in a truly pitiable state of despondency at
the tragic end of his adventure. Innocent as he was of it all, he
nevertheless persisted in accusing himself of being the author of the
murderous affair by introducing this mysterious guest. He gave a
detailed account of the way in which he had made her acquaintance, and
asserted again and again that she had done absolutely nothing to
provoke the dog. But let that be as it would, the mischief had been
done; the ball was spoiled, and Jansen had lost his good old comrade.

Felix listened to all this with clouded brow. Then he pushed his way
through the crowd, and went up to Jansen. The dog had just drawn his
last breath. Jansen sprung to his feet when he felt the hand of his
friend on his shoulder. He drew himself up erect, and then raised Julie
from her knees, but without uttering a word, while his bright eyes,
sunk deep in their sockets, wandered slowly about, as if he were trying
to remember where he was.

"Have they gone?" he said, after a long pause.

No one answered. Julie took his hand and spoke gently to him, and he
replied by a vacant smile and a nod. Then, with a violent shudder, he
roused himself, and strode out of the group that had gathered about the
dead animal. He advanced to his friends, and, speaking once more in his
usual voice, requested Schnetz to send for a carriage, as he wished to
take the dead dog home. Then, with few words, but with a manner that
forbade all remonstrances, he entreated them not to be disturbed on his
account, and not to leave the ball. He made even Julie promise this,
and forced himself to speak quite as usual. After this he took
Rosenbusch aside, and conversed with him in a low voice for a
considerable time, never lifti