General Rubens had no doubts about it. He went up to the black domino
and wrote the royal letters in the mask’s hand. These were denied, but the
mask gave him a hint.
The words that came with the saddle: “One whom you do not know,
General.”
“But I do know you,” said the General. “It was you who sent me the
saddle.”
The domino raised his hand, and disappeared among the other guests.
“Who is that black domino with whom you were dancing, Emily?” asked
the General’s lady.
“I did not ask his name,” she replied, “because you knew it. It is the
Professor. Your protégé is here, Count!” she continued, turning to that
nobleman, who stood close by. “A black domino with acacia blossoms in
his cap.”
“Very likely, my dear lady,” replied the Count. “But one of the Princes
wears just the same costume.”
“I knew the pressure of the hand,” said the General. “The saddle came
from the Prince. I am so certain of it that I could invite that domino to
dinner.”
“Do so. If it be the Prince he will certainly come,” replied the Count.
“And if it is the other he will not come,” said the General, and
approached the black domino, who was just speaking with the King. The
General gave a very respectful invitation “that they might make each
other’s acquaintance,” and he smiled in his certainty concerning the person
he was inviting. He spoke loud and distinctly.
The domino raised his mask, and it was George. “Do you repeat your
invitation, General?” he asked.
The General certainly seemed to grow an inch taller, assumed a more
stately demeanor, and took two steps backward and one step forward, as if
