“Lock the obstinate dog up till the morning,” said the Marshal; “he will come to his senses by that time!” With these words the wrathful dignitary went away.  These incidents had set the whole police force of the city on the qui vive.  In the next ten minutes two more watchmen were brought to the office on similar charges with the others.  One was accused of singing a libel under the window of the Minister of Foreign Affairs, in which it was insinuated that there were no affairs to which he was more foreign than those of his own department.  The other had sung some verses before the door of the Bishop’s palace, informing him that the “lights of the church” were by no means deficient in tallow, but gave a great deal more smoke than illumination.  The Prince, who had wrought the poor watchmen all this woe, was always lucky enough to escape, and grew bolder and bolder with every new attempt.  The affair was talked of everywhere.  The Minister of Police, who was at cards with the King, was informed of the insurrection among the hitherto peaceful watchmen, and, as a proof of it, some of the verses were given to him in writing.  The King laughed very heartily at the doggerel verse about the miserable police, who were always putting their noses into other people’s family affairs, but could never smell anything amiss in their own, and were therefore lawful game, and ordered the next poetical watchman who should be taken to be brought before him.  He broke up the card-table, for he saw that the Minister of Police had lost his good humor.

X.

In the dancing-hall next to the card-room, Philip had looked at his watch, and discovered that the time of his appointment with Rose at St. Gregory’s had nearly come.  He was by no means sorry at the prospect of giving back his silk mantle and plumed bonnet to his substitute, for he began to find high life not quite to his taste.  As he was going to the door, the Negro once more came up to him, and whispered:  “Your Highness, Duke Herrman is seeking for you everywhere.”  Philip shook his head impatiently and hurried out, followed by the Negro.  When they got to the ante-chamber, the Negro cried out, “By Heaven, here comes the Duke!”—­and slipped back into the hall.

A tall black mask walked fiercely up to Philip, and said:  “Stay a moment, sir; I’ve a word or two to say to you; I’ve been seeking for you long.”

“Quick, then,” said Philip, “for I have no time to lose.”

“I would not waste a moment, sir; I have sought you long enough; you owe me satisfaction, you have injured me infamously.”

“Not that I am aware of.”

“You don’t know me, perhaps,” said the Duke, lifting up his mask; “now that you see me, your own conscience will save me any more words.  I demand satisfaction.  You and the cursed Salmoni have deceived me!”

“I know nothing about it,” said Philip.

“You got up that shameful scene in the cellar of the baker’s daughter.  It was at your instigation that Colonel Kalt made an assault upon me with a cudgel.”