Bianca ran to put on her hat and tell the Maestro the good news, which evidently delighted the old man greatly, judging from the extraordinary chuckling sounds which shortly proceeded from his bedroom. Petronella at the doorway celebrated a noisy triumph on her own account, and at last amid the chucklings of the patriarch and the loud delight of his handmaiden, Bianca took her departure under my wing to visit the newly-found prodigal. She absolutely danced along the pavement, so exuberant was her delight at the good news, and I thought how easily I could damp this joy by telling her the true story of Guiseppe's disappearance. It was a cruel thought, and I regretted it the moment after it flashed across my mind; for it would have been the wanton act of a boy crushing a butterfly to have destroyed the happy ignorance of this merry child, who, tripping gaily along by my side, put me in mind of the smiling Hebe of the Greeks, that charming incarnation of joyous maidenhood. "Signore!" said Bianca, moderating her transports, "you have not told me the reason of Guiseppe's absence." "I am afraid there is very little to tell, Signorina! He was lured to the Palazzo by an enemy, who kept him there until last night, when, luckily, I discovered where he was concealed and released him." "Ah, Signor Hugo, how can I thank you for your kindness! Then my poor Guiseppe was hidden in that terrible room?" "He was concealed near it, at all events," I replied evasively. "And the voice in the darkness, Signor? Oh, that cruel, cruel voice! It. has haunted my dreams ever since!" "It was nothing, Signorina; it was--it was a friend of mine, who came to assist me to look for Guiseppe!" "Was it a signor or a Signora?" asked Bianca, who, evidently in her nervous agitation, had not distinguished the feminine tones of the unknown. "It was a signor! a young signor whom I know!" "But he saw us in the darkness. Dio! how terrible." "No; he did not see us. He guessed we were there, as I told him we were going to look for Guiseppe, and he came to assist me." Bianca was satisfied with this--I flatter myself--skilful explanation, and stopped asking questions, much to my relief. The number of lies I was forced to tell in connection with this affair was truly surprising, but as it was absolutely necessary to keep this poor child in ignorance of the true state of the case, I ventured to hope that the Recording Angel would treat them in the same way as he did the oath of my Uncle Toby, in Sterne's delightful story. Italian intrigue, from the experience I had of it, was certainly very little to my taste, as I was by no means a convert to the Jesuitical maxim that the end justifies the means, therefore it was with a thankful heart that I saw the whole intricate affair was nearly finished. By this time we had arrived at Pallanza's lodgings, and I placed Bianca in an outer room with strict injunctions that she was not to leave it until I called her.