Christopher found the governor deep in his meal, which he enjoyed with the zest of a man who has few sources of occupation or amusement, and, therefore, gives free scope to the appetite. He was just filling a glass of wine as the man came in, and holding it up, smiled to see its amber hues sparkle in the lamplight. Indeed, he was too pleasantly occupied for any remembrance of the errand on which the keeper had gone. “Ah! is it you again, my Christopher?” he said, draining the glass with a mellow smack of the lips. “Well, what news? The bell rang, if I remember. What unreasonable person was so bold?” “It is a person from Versailles, your excellency; some one with a letter, and a special message to yourself.” “From Versailles? Let him in; let him in. It is not often that Louis the Sixteenth requires my services. That is why the rabble has dared to lift its clamor against the Bastille. If he would open its gates to the populace and crowd the old prison from foundation to roof with the disaffected, there would be no more cries of ‘Down with the Bastille!’ in the streets of Paris. Let the king’s messenger present himself, he is welcome.” Christopher went out, and directly returned with the page in close company. When this person was seen in the full glare of the light, his appearance of extreme youth vanished. He was slender, elegant, and bright; but there was something in the curve of the mouth, and a depth of expression about the eyes, which belied the boyish air and foppish costume so completely, that the governor arose to receive him with unusual courtesy. “This letter,” said the page, “will inform you of my business; after that let me pray that we converse alone.” “Christopher, you may go,” said the governor, filling another glass of wine, and holding it toward his visitor with one hand while he replenished his own glass with the other. “Now, sir, sit down while I read this missive.” The page accepted the wine, and drank it off, for he felt the need of it after a long and wearisome ride of hours. While the slow color came back to his face, the governor was earnestly perusing the letter. It evidently caused him some disturbance, for a flush of hotter red than the Rhenish wine could give, rose into his face, while his eyes grew large and opened wide with astonishment. “From her,” he muttered, uneasily. “Why it is years and years since I have seen her name. How came she at Versailles? Must talk freely with her messenger! As if I wanted anything to do with him or her either! Why it might cost me dear with his majesty, and set the rabble to hunting me down like a dog! My own safety! Danger! Humph! Humph!” All this was muttered incoherently by the astonished governor, while the page sat keenly regarding him, catching up here and there a disjointed word, which made his eyes sparkle and his lips curve scornfully.