y--likewise oak-panelled, with tall
cupboards, not unlike the canopy of a tomb in shape and general
appearance.

The hour came, and with it the guests. The feast began, the cooks
streamed up and down bearing relays of dishes from the inn. Above the
table hung a six-armed brass chandelier, and in each of its sockets
guttered a tallow candle furnishing light to the company beneath,
although outside of its bright ring there was shadow more or less dense.
Towards the end of dinner a portion of the rush wick of one of these
candles fell into the brass saucer beneath, causing the molten grease
to burn up fiercely. As it chanced, by the light of this sudden flare,
Montalvo, who was sitting opposite to the door, thought that he caught
sight of a tall, dark figure gliding along the wall towards the bedroom.
For one instant he saw it, then it was gone.

"_Caramba_, my friend," he said, addressing Dirk, whose back was turned
towards the figure, "have you any ghosts in this gloomy old room of
yours? Because, if so, I think I have just seen one."

"Ghosts!" answered Dirk, "no, I never heard of any; I do not believe in
ghosts. Take some more of that pasty."

Montalvo took some more pasty, and washed it down with a glass of
wine. But he said no more about ghosts--perhaps an explanation of the
phenomenon had occurred to him; at any rate he decided to leave the
subject alone.

After the dinner they gambled, and this evening the stakes began where
those of the previous night left off. For the first hour Dirk lost, then
the luck turned and he won heavily, but always from Montalvo.

"My friend," said the captain at last, throwing down his cards,
"certainly you are fated to be unfortunate in your matrimonial
adventures, for the devil lives in your dice-box, and his highness does
not give everything. I pass," and he rose from the table.

"I pass also," said Dirk following him into the window place, for he
wished to take no more money. "You have been very unlucky, Count," he
said.

"Very, indeed, my young friend," answered Montalvo, yawning, "in fact,
for the next six months I must live on--well--well, nothing, except the
recollection of your excellent dinner."

"I am sorry," muttered Dirk, confusedly, "I did not wish to take your
money; it was the turn of those accursed dice. See here, let us say no
more about it."

"Sir," said Montalvo, with a sudden sternness, "an officer and a
gentleman cannot treat a debt of honour thus; but