However, in a moment or two he recovered himself, tossed back the hair which was falling over his brow, and left the palace with firm and resolute step. All who were present watched him with something very like respect as he walked away. Benvenuto's apparent tranquillity was due to the marvellous power he possessed over himself, for he was in reality more confused and desperate than a stag at bay. He wandered through the streets for some time, heedless as to where he might be, hearing nothing but the buzzing of the blood in his ears, and vaguely wondering, as one does in intoxication, whether he was awake or asleep. It was the third time he had been shown the door within an hour. It was the third time that doors had been shut in his face,--in his face, Benvenuto's, the favorite of princes, popes, and kings, before whom all doors were thrown open to their fullest extent when his footsteps were heard approaching! And yet, notwithstanding this threefold affront, he had not the right to give way to his anger; he must dissemble, and hide his humiliation until he had rescued Colombe and Ascanio. The throng through which he passed, thoughtless or full of business, seemed to him to read upon his brow the story of the repeated insults he had undergone. It was perhaps the only moment in his whole life when his great heart lost faith in itself. But after ten or fifteen minutes of this aimless, blind wandering, his will reasserted itself, and he raised his head: his depression left him, and the fever returned. "Go to!" he cried aloud, to such a degree did his mind dominate his body; "go to! in vain do they crowd the man, they cannot throw down the artist! Come, sculptor, and make them repent of their base deeds when they admire thy handiwork! Come, Jupiter, and prove that thou art still, not the king of the gods alone, but the master of mankind!" As he spoke, Benvenuto, acting upon an impulse stronger than himself, bent his step toward the Tournelles, that former royal residence, where the old constable, Anne de Montmorency, still dwelt. The effervescent artist was required to await his turn for an hour before he was admitted to the presence of the warrior minister of François I., who was besieged by a mob of courtiers and petitioners. At last he was introduced.