"He is to be found," said Orbi, "in the great house by the church of St. Sauveur. I remember him well, for when your mother fled out of Rome before you were born, and was glad to get what assistance she could, she sent me three times back into the city to speak with the Abbé of Laurans, as he was then called." "And what is he called now?" exclaimed Ignati eagerly. "What is he called now?" "He is called the Abbé de Boisguerin," replied the man, "or the Seigneur de Boisguerin, as it now is." "Then I have seen him," cried Ignati. "Then I have seen him; and he called her----" But the boy suddenly checked himself, "And now, what is it you want here?" he said. "No harm, Master Ignati," replied the man, with a look half sneering, half dogged. "You seem as grateful as any one else, and as soon as you get all you want, you turn upon one. I suppose you are waiting for your young master coming back from some gay revel, for the whole place seems as silent as if every body were gone to bed but you." "Oh, no," answered Ignati. "There are six of the Duke's men sitting up in the next room; and all I fear is, that the gentlemen who are with the Duke himself should come out and find you here." "Then, I suppose, your master is with them," said the Italian. The boy smiled. "My master is with them," he said, "for my master is the Duke of Guise; but if you mean the young Count who took me from you, he has been gone to bed an hour ago. Ay, Master Orbi, and has two stout men sleeping across his door. I hav'n't forgot that he struck you a blow one day; nor you either, it seems." "You are out there, Sharp-wits," said the Italian. "I bear the boy no grudge. I got his money, if he gave me a blow into the bargain; so we are quits." "I doubt you," muttered Ignati to himself; but the man went on without attending to him, saying, "No, no; what I came for really, if you want to know, was to give a letter to a young lady here, from an old gentleman at the other side of the castle. Here it is! Ma'mselle de Clairvaut is the name." "Ay, she is gone to bed long ago too," replied the page. "Let me look at the letter." "It is of no great consequence, I believe," replied the Italian, who fancied the letter a mere pretext. "It is of no great consequence; all about a Persian cat, I believe. So you may take it and give it her to-morrow, if she is gone to bed now. There it is. But how is it you are not with the young Count now? The Duke of Guise!--Page to the Duke of Guise! Why, that is a step, indeed!" "Hush!" cried Ignati, hearing the door of the Duke's cabinet open behind the arras. "Hush! get you gone with all speed! They are coming out; and if they find you here, I would not answer for your ears, or my own either."