rry you, my good
fellow," said Cleek, with a smile. "Put your fifty-eight pounds in your
pocket against your wedding-day, and good luck to you. I'll take the
case for nothing. Now then, what is it? What the dickens did you mean
just now when you spoke about 'the lion's change' and 'the lion's
smile'? What lion--Nero? Here, sit down and tell me all about it."

"There is little enough to tell, Heavens knows," said young Scarmelli,
with a sigh, accepting the invitation after he had gratefully wrung
Cleek's hand, and his fiancee, with a burst of happy tears, had caught
it up as it slipped from his and had covered it with thankful kisses.
"That, Mr. Cleek, is where the greatest difficulty lies, there is so
little to explain that has any bearing upon the matter at all. It is
only that the lion, Nero, that is, the chevalier's special pride and
special pet, seems to have undergone some great and inexplicable change,
as though he is at times under some evil spell, which lasts but a moment
and yet makes that moment a tragical one. It began, no one knows why
nor how, two weeks ago, when, without hint or warning, he killed the
person he loved best in all the world, the chevalier's eldest son.
Doubtless you have heard of that?"

"Yes," said Cleek. "But what you are now telling me sheds a new light
upon the matter. Am I to understand, then, that all that talk, on the
bills and in the newspapers, about the lion being a savage and a
dangerous one is not true, and that he really is attached to his owner
and his owner's family?"

"Yes," said Scarmelli. "He is indeed the gentlest, most docile, most
intelligent beast of his kind living. In short, sir, there's not a
'bite' in him; and, added to that, he is over thirty years old. Zelie,
Miss di Roma, will tell you that he was born in captivity; that from his
earliest moment he has been the pet of her family; that he was, so to
speak, raised with her and her brothers; that, as children, they often
slept with him; that he will follow those he loves like any dog, fight
for them, protect them, let them tweak his ears and pull his tail
without showing the slightest resentment, even though they may actually
hurt him. Indeed, he is so general a favourite, Mr. Cleek, that there
isn't an attendant connected with the show who would not, and, indeed,
has not at some time, put his head in the beast's mouth, just as the
chevalier does in public, certain that no harm could possibly come of
the act.