Hyppolito turned joyfully round, and looking on the stranger, saw the features of a brave and honest youth, under the squalid rags in which he was enveloped. He made him a sign to follow at some distance, and getting out of the streets as fast as possible, the two young men found themselves in a lonely thicket, just beyond its precincts, “Now then, say on,” cried Hyppolito, “tell me your name and purpose,--we both risk much by this sudden confidence; but who would not risk all, save his immortal soul, for the injured Sebastian.” “I am Don Christopher of Crato,” replied the stranger, blushing and sighing as he pronounced the name he mentioned, “my grandfather was great uncle to Sebastian, I am therefore bound to his fortunes by the ties of blood. Having returned into France after the base detention of my dear sovereign at Florence, I obtained from the French King a solemn promise of inviolable protection (a promise written by his own hand, and which I now possess) for Sebastian and his Queen, should I ever be able to effect their liberation. For this purpose the generous King has given me a large sum of money, with which I hastened to Naples, determined to attempt the rescue of Sebastian either by bribery or by artifice; but I found him removed to St. Lucar: hither I have followed him, and disguised as you see, am now watching an opportunity for the performance of a duty.” At the name of Don Christopher, (whom the late Emanuel de Castro had so often extolled at Villa Rosolia,) Hyppolito dismissed his fears and suspicions, and at once unfolded to him the design he had himself formed during his visit to the galley. From the countenance of her Captain, and the mean salary attached to his station, Hyppolito believed he might be induced to receive a rich reward for conniving at the escape of his prisoners; all the jewellery in his own possession he had already in thought, devoted to this generous purpose;--even the brilliant chanfraine which had sparkled round the brow of his horse when its master was proclaimed victor at a tournament, and he had ridden up to Blanche to receive her praises and her smiles. But Don Christopher shewed him the wisdom of keeping these gems as a fund for future emergency. “I have enough for our purpose:” he said, “enough to take us into France, and after that, I can offer from myself, a noble asylum to my royal relation. The fairest and the richest heiress of Brittany, will bless me with her hand the moment I return to claim it. Own that I love my King, Don Hyppolito, when I confess that nothing but his service should have torn me from the feet of my adorable Adelaide.”