“Lay it down—do not touch it, Zamara. Yet stay. An hour—a single hour can do little harm. Zamara, do you know the palace? Have you ever been at Versailles?” “Often, madame. No one regards Zamara when he is not in these clothes, especially if it should be night.” “Could you find your way into the apartments occupied by the Dauphiness, Zamara?” “To give madame pleasure, Zamara would find his way anywhere.” The countess patted the dwarf’s head with her white and beautiful hand. A small enameled box stood on a _chiffonniere_ among other articles of expensive jewelry. She opened the box, and bade Zamara drop the ring into it; then she folded the box in a piece of silver paper, and gave it again to the dwarf. “You understand,” she said, “this must go directly into the hands of the Dauphiness?” “Madame, I understand.” “And you will convey it there, at once?” “At once.” “But how? It must be done secretly, or you may come to harm, Zamara.” “The harm will be welcome, if it comes in madame’s service,” answered the dwarf. “Then go. It is getting late, shadows are gathering over the Park; but be careful. If any one sees you, say that you have a message for the king. There is not a creature in the palace who will dare molest you. Stay, I will write.” The dwarf waited patiently till madame had completed a fanciful little note, which she gave to his charge. Concealing this with the box in his bosom, the dwarf set forth on his errand. It was no unusual thing for Zamara to be seen coming and going to the king’s apartments; but that night he seemed lost in the vast building, and wandered about from room to room, hiding when the guards appeared, and darting across each illuminated space like some deer in an open glade. At last he found himself in a wing of the vast palace that he had never visited before. The dwarf passed several persons unavoidably on his way; but if any one observed him, he asked innocently if the king was yet at dinner, and passed on. At length, after trying several keys, he entered a spacious bedchamber, dimly lighted, and rendered somewhat gloomy from the massive high bed mounted on a dais, from which curtains of crimson damask swept almost from the frescoed ceiling to the floor. In a smaller room, beyond this chamber, Zamara saw a toilet brilliantly lighted up, and a casket of jewels lying open upon it, from which a rope of pearls had fallen loosely, and lay gleaming like frozen moonlight across an azure satin cushion, on which the casket was placed.