I did not _mean_ to stay more than five minutes, nor should I have delayed, but for my next adventure. When I came to my door, which I reached in breathless haste, lo! it was fastened within, or at least would not be pulled open. I was cross, for I was in a hurry, and very curious too; so I set down my violin, to bang and push against the door. I had given it a good kick, almost enough to fracture the panel, when a voice came creeping through that darkness, "Only wait one little moment, and don't knock me down, please!" I knew that voice, and stood stoned with delight to the spot, while the bolt slid softly back in some velvet touch, and the door was opened. "Oh, sir!" I cried, as I saw the Chevalier, looking at that instant more like some darling child caught at its pretty mischief than the commanding soul of myriads, "oh, sir! I beg your pardon. I did not know you were here." "I did not suppose so," he answered, laughing brightly. "I came here because I knew the way, and because I wanted to be out of the way. It is I who ought to beg _thy_ pardon, Carlomein." "Oh, sir! to think of your coming into my room,--I shall always like to think you came. But if I had only known you were here, I would not have interrupted you." "And I, had I known thou wouldst come, should not have bolted thy door. But I was afraid of Anastase, Carlomein." "Afraid of Anastase, sir,--of _Anastase_?" I could find no other words. "Yes, I am of Anastase even a little afraid." "Oh, sir! don't you like him?" I exclaimed; for I remembered Maria's secret. "My child," said the Chevalier, "he is as near an angel as artist can be,--a ministering spirit; but yet I tell thee, I fear before him. He is so still, severe, and perfect." "Perfect! perfect before _you_!" I could have cried; but a restraining spell was on my soul,--a spell I could not resist nor appreciate, but in whose after revelation the reason shone clear of that strange, unwonted expression in Seraphael's words. Thus, instead, I went on, "Sir, I understand why you came here, that they might not persecute you,--and I don't wonder, for they are dreadfully noisy; but, sir, they did not mean to be rude." "It is I who have been rude, if it were such a thing at all; but it is not. And now let me ask after what I have not forgotten,--thy health." "Sir, I am very well, I thank you. And you, sir?" "I never was so well, thank God! And yet, Carlomein, thy cheek is thinner." "Oh! that is only because I grow so tall. My sister, who is just come from England--" Here I suddenly arrested myself, for my unaddress stared me in the face. He just laid his little hand on my hair, and smiled inquiringly, "Oh! tell me about thy sister." "Sir, she said I looked so very well." "That's good. But about her,--is she young and pretty?" "Sir, she is a very darling sister to me, but not pretty at all,--only very interesting; and she is very young to be married." "She is married, then?" He smiled still more inquiringly.