In this state, she had continued about five or ten minutes, when the sound of creaking hinges made her raise her eyes. The door which led into the ante-room was shut, as well as that which gave egress, at once, upon the staircase; but on the other side of the room there was another door, which communicated with an unoccupied part of the house, looking into a back street which led away towards the Faubourg St. Antoine; and when Eugenie turned her eyes in that direction, she started up with surprise, and some degree of alarm, on perceiving it gently and slowly drawn back. Remembering, however, that her attendants were in the ante-room, she paused, to see what would be the result, suppressing the exclamation which had nearly burst from her lips. The sight that the open door presented, when farther drawn back, was certainly one which in no degree diminished her surprise, but at the same time added nothing to her alarm; for the person who opened it was alone; nor was he one whose appearance was calculated to inspire terror. It was the figure of a youth, apparently not more than fifteen years of age, that now presented itself, carrying a lamp in one hand, and unclosing the door with the other. His dress was of the gay and splendid costume of the court of Henry III. and from under his high-crowned beaver, and its manifold ostrich feathers, the bright and glossy curls of his coal-black hair fell round as handsome a face as ever was beheld. A large cloak was wrapped about his arm, and riding-boots pushed down to the ankles, as was then customary, seemed to indicate that he either came from or was bound upon a journey; and as Eugenie gazed upon him, she concluded at once that he was some page attached to the Count d'Aubin, who, sent with some message or letter ere his lord's departure, had either by accident or design passed by that part of the dwelling which was for the time out of use. As soon as this conviction struck her, she rose to call in her women, but the youth held up his hand with a gesture which was easily interpreted into an entreaty to be silent; and Eugenie again paused, saying in a low tone, "What do you seek here, sir? Do not advance, or I must call my servants!" The youth, however, did still advance, but with an air of deprecation and gentleness, that took away all fear; and when, within a step, he placed the lamp on the table, and bent one knee to the ground, Eugenie gazed upon him with doubt and astonishment; but a confused and uncertain hope began to take possession of her mind, as the boy raised her hand to his lips, and then, as he glided his arms round her waist, and, with the jetty curls of his hair mingling with her light-brown locks, kissed her tenderly on either cheek, the fair girl's face dropped upon her new companion's shoulder, and with a flood of tears she exclaimed, "Oh! Beatrice, Beatrice! why did you not come sooner?"