"Ay, Madam Moon," he said; "you are a curious creature, with your changes, and your risings, and your settings, and your man with his dog and lantern. I wonder what you really are. You look like a great big ducat nailed upon the sky, or a seal of yellow wax pendent from the charter of the heavens. I could almost fancy, though, that I can see behind you on this clear night. Perhaps you are but the big boss of a sconce, put up there to reflect the light of the sun. You will soon be up there, just above the watch-tower of the castle, like a ball upon a gate-post. Hark! there are people riding late. By my faith! if they be travellers coming hither, they will find scanty lodging and little to eat. These gormandizing Frenchmen have gobbled up everything in the village, I warrant, and occupied every bed. On my faith, they will find themselves too confident some day: not a sentry set except at the stables; no one on guard; the two or three officers in the dining-hall. They think they have got Italy at their feet; they may discover that they are mistaken before they leave it. These horsemen are coming hither. Who can they be?" While these thoughts had been occupying one part of the man--I know not how better to express it--and had more or less clothed themselves in words, another train, more nearly allied to feeling, had been proceeding silently in the deeper recesses of his bosom. There was something which made him half sorry that he had been prevented from proceeding further before nightfall, half angry with him who had been, partly at least, the cause of the delay. "I do not believe," he thought, "that the big bravo can reach the villa before morning. He had not set out when we came away, and yet I should like to see the young lord to-night. I have a great mind to get upon my horse's skin at once and go on. But then, a thousand to one, De Vitry would send after and stop me; and if I were to meet Buondoni and his people, I should get my throat cut, and all my news would escape through the gash. If I could persuade this dashing French captain to lend me half a dozen men now, I might do something; but their horses are all tired with carrying the cart-load of iron each has got upon his shoulders. Hark! these travellers are coming nearer. Perhaps they may bring some news from the Villa Rovera. They are coming from that side."