The conversation which was going on between him and the master he now served, was evidently one of great interest. The Abbé's wine remained half finished in the glass; the preserved fruits upon his plate were scarcely tasted; and he exclaimed, "So, so! Villequier sends me no answer to my letter! A bare message, by word of mouth, that the Duke of Guise wills it to be so; and that the Duke's will is all powerful at the Court of France! The King sets at nought his own royal word, does he?" "He said something, sir," said the Italian, "about his knowing, and the King also, that they must pay a penalty; but that no sum was to be grudged, rather than offend the Duke at this time." "Sum!" cried the Abbé de Boisguerin, starting up and pushing the chair vehemently from him. "What is any sum to me?" And with flashing eyes, and a countenance all inflamed, he strode up and down the chamber for a moment or two, with his heart swelling with bitterness and disappointed passion. "A curse upon this bungling hand," he cried, striking it upon the table, "that it should fail me at such a moment as that! I thought the young viper had been swept from my way for ever!--My aim was steady and true, too! His heart must be in some other place than other men's." "Ha! my Lord," joined in the Italian in the tone of a connoisseur, "the arquebus is a pretty weapon, I dare say, in a general battle, but it is desperate uncertain in private affairs like that. You can never tell, to an inch or two, where the ball will hit. But, with a dagger, you can make sure to a button-hole; and even if there should be a struggle, it is always quite easy so to salve the point of your blade, that you make sure of your friend, even if you give him but a scratch. Now the attempt to poison a ball is all nonsense, for the fire destroys the venom." "At what hour said you, Orbi?" demanded the Abbé, without attending to his dissertation. "Half an hour before high mass," replied the man, "the marriage is to take place." Again the Abbé de Boisguerin burst into a vehement fit of passion, and strode up and down the room cursing and blaspheming, till accidentally his eyes fell upon a small Venetian mirror, and the aspect of his own countenance, ordinarily so calm and unmoved, now distorted by rage and disappointment, made him start. A smile of scorn, even at himself, curled his lip; and calming his countenance by a great effort, he again seated himself, and mused for a moment. "This must not, and shall not be," he said at length. "Orbi, you are an experienced hand, and doubtless dexterous. Will you stop this going forward?" The man smiled, stroked back his mustachios, and replied, "I thought you would be obliged to take my way at last. Well, Monseigneur, I have no objection; but the time is short. I told you what I expected for such an affair when I offered to do it in Paris."