k, I think only of one thing," said Jacques,
gloomily.

"The Bacchanal queen?--still?" said Morok, in a disdainful tone.

"Still! rather: when I shall think of her no longer, I shall be dead--or
stupefied. Fiend!"

"You were never better or more intelligent, you fool!" replied Morok,
fastening his turban. The conversation was here interrupted. Morok's
aider entered hastily.

The gigantic form of this Hercules had increased in width. He was habited
like Alcides; his enormous limbs, furrowed with veins as thick as
whipcord, were covered with a close-fitting flesh-colored garment, to
which a pair of red drawers formed a strong contrast.

"Why do you rush in like a storm, Goliath?" said Morok.

"There's a pretty storm in the house; they are beginning to get
impatient, and are calling out like madmen. But if that were all!"

"Well, what else?"

"Death will not be able to play this evening."

Morok turned quickly around. He seemed uneasy. "Why so?" he exclaimed.

"I have just seen her! she's crouching at the bottom of her cage; her
ears lie so close to her head, she looks as if they had been cut off. You
know what that means."

"Is that all?" said Morok, turning to the glass to complete his head
dress.

"It's quite enough; she's in one of her tearing fits. Since that night in
Germany, when she ripped up that old hack of a white horse, I've not seen
her look so savage! her eyes shine like burning candles."

"Then she must have her fine collar on," said Morok, quietly.

"Her fine collar?"

"Yes; her spring-collar."

"And I must be lady's-maid," said the giant. "A nice toilet to attend
to!"

"Hold your tongue!"

"That's not all--" continued Goliath, hesitating.

"What more?"

"I might as well tell you at once."

"Will you speak?"

"Well! he is here."

"Who, you stupid brute?"

"The Englishman!"

Morok started; his arms fell powerless by his side. Jacques was struck
with the lion-tamer's paleness and troubled countenance.

"The Englishman!--you have seen him?" cried Morok, addressing Goliath.
"You are quite sure?"

"Quite sure. I was looking through the peep-hole in the curtain; I saw
him in one of the stage-boxes--he wishes to see things close; he's easy
to recognize, with his pointed forehead, big nose, and goggle eyes."

Morok shuddered again; usually fierce and unmoved, he appeared to be more
and more agitated, and so alarmed, that Jacques said to him: "Who is this
Englishman?"

"He ha