the intrusion; he was under orders to be present at the opera, and to be as near the stage as possible, the countess’s box being designated.  Her face had the unalterable composure of a painted head upon an old canvas.  The General persisted in tendering excuses.  She replied, ’It is best, when one is too weak to resist, to submit to an outrage quietly.’  General Pierson at once took the position assigned to him; it was not an agreeable one.  Between Carlo and the lieutenant no attempt at conversation was made.

The General addressed his nephew in English.  ’Did you see the girl behind the scenes, Wilfrid?’

The answer was ‘No.’

’Pericles has her fast shut up in the Tyrol:  the best habitat for her if she objects to a whipping.  Did you see Irma?’

‘No; she has disappeared too.’

’Then I suppose we must make up our minds to an opera without head or tail.  As Pat said of the sack of potatoes, “’twould be a mighty fine beast if it had them."’

The officers had taken refuge in their opera-glasses, and spoke while gazing round the house.

’If neither this girl nor Irma is going to appear, there is no positive necessity for my presence here,’ said the General, reduced to excuse himself to himself.  ’I’ll sit through the first scene and then beat a retreat.  I might be off at once; the affair looks harmless enough only, you know, when there’s nothing to see, you must report that you have seen it, or your superiors are not satisfied.’

The lieutenant was less able to cover the irksomeness of his situation with easy talk.  His glance rested on Countess Len a von Lenkenstein, a quick motion of whose hand made him say that he should go over to her.

‘Very well,’ said the General; ’be careful that you give no hint of this horrible business.  They will hear of it when they get home:  time enough!’

Lieutenant Pierson touched at his sister’s box on the way.  She was very excited, asked innumerable things,—­whether there was danger? whether he had a whole regiment at hand to protect peaceable persons?  ‘Otherwise,’ she said, ’I shall not be able to keep that man (her husband) in Italy another week.  He refused to stir out to-night, though we know that nothing can happen.  Your prima donna celestissima is out of harm’s way.’

‘Oh, she is safe,—­ze minx’; cried Antonio-Pericles, laughing and saluting the Duchess of Graatli, who presented herself at the front of her box.  Major de Pyrmont was behind her, and it delighted the Greek to point them out to the English lady, with a simple intimation of the character of their relationship, at which her curls shook sadly.

‘Pardon, madame,’ said Pericles.  ’In Italy, a husband away, ze friend takes title:  it is no more.’

‘It is very disgraceful,’ she said.

‘Ze morales, madame, suit ze sun.’

Captain Gambier left the box with Wilfrid, expressing in one sentence his desire to fling Pericles over to the pit, and in another his belief that an English friend, named Merthyr Powys, was in the house.