Ascanio did as she bade him, but as he left the room he cast upon Colombe one of those long, eloquent glances wherein lovers can say so much, and which, however unintelligible they may be to indifferent observers, are always understood at last by the person to whom they are addressed. Colombe undoubtedly lost no portion of its meaning, for her eyes, how she knew not, having met the youth's, she blushed prodigiously, and when she felt that she was blushing, she cast her eyes down upon her embroidery, and began to mangle a poor inoffensive flower. Ascanio saw the blush, and, stopping abruptly, stepped toward Colombe; but at that moment Dame Perrine turned and called him, and he was compelled to follow her. He had no sooner crossed the threshold of the door than Colombe dropped her needle, let her arms fall beside her chair, threw back her head, and breathed a long sigh, in which were mingled, by one of those inexplicable miracles which the heart alone can perform, regret at Ascanio's departure, and a sort of relief to feel that he was no longer there. The young man was very perceptibly in a bad humor; with Benvenuto, who had given him such a strange commission to fulfil; with himself, for his inability to take advantage of his opportunity; but most of all with Dame Perrine, who was cruel enough to make him leave the room just when Colombe's eyes seemed to bid him remain. So it was that, when the duenna inquired as to the purpose of his visit, Ascanio replied in a most deliberate manner, determined to be revenged upon her for his own bungling:-- "The purpose of my visit, my dear Madame, is to beg you to show me the Hôtel de Nesle from one end to the other." "Show you the Hôtel de Nesle!" cried Dame Perrine; "why, in Heaven's name, do you desire to see it?" "To see if it will be convenient for us, if we shall be comfortable here, and if it is worth while for us to leave our present quarters to come and live here." "What! come and live here! Pray have you hired the hotel of Monsieur le Prévôt?" "No, but his Majesty gives it to us." "His Majesty gives it to you!" exclaimed Dame Perrine, more and more amazed. "Absolutely," replied Ascanio. "To you?" "Not precisely, my good woman, but to my master." "And who is your master, if I may ask, young man? Some great foreign nobleman, no doubt?" "Better than that, Dame Perrine,--a great artist, come hither from Florence, expressly to serve his Most Christian Majesty." "Aha!" said the good woman, who did not understand very well; "what does your master make?" "What does he make? Why, he makes everything: rings to put on maidens' fingers; ewers to put upon kings' tables; statues to place in the temples of the gods; and in his leisure moments he besieges or defends cities, as his caprice leads him to cause an emperor to tremble, or to reassure a pope." "Jésus Dieu!" cried Dame Perrine: "what is your master's name?" "His name is Benvenuto Cellini."