“Deeper and darker schemes than mine were once enacted there!--and what fruits have they borne after all? They who convulsed the age they lived in have never left an impress to ruffle the future, and, for aught that we know or feel, the Medici might never have lived. And this,” cried he, aloud, “because theirs was a selfish ambition. There is but one cause whose interests are eternal,--the Church; that glorious creation which combines power here with triumph hereafter!” His face, as he uttered the words, was no bad emblem of the nature within,----a high and noble brow, lit up by the impress of a great ambition, and, beneath, eyes of changeful and treacherous meaning; while, lower down again, in the compressed lips and projecting chin might be read the signs of an unrelenting spirit. Passing along through many a tortuous path, he at last reached a small private gate which led into the grounds of the “Moskova.” He had to bethink him for a moment of the way which conducted to the gardens, but he soon remembered the direction, and walked on. It was the hour when in Italy the whole face of a country, the busiest streets of a thronged city, are deserted, and a stillness far more unbroken than that of midnight prevails. The glowing hours of noonday had brought the “siesta,” and not a laborer was to be seen in the fields. D'Esmonde found the garden unlocked, and entered. He knew that by passing directly onward to the “orangery” he could enter the villa by a small door, which led into the private apartments of the Prince. This was, however, locked; but the window lay open, and with a spring he gained the sill and entered the chamber. He knew it well; it was the little room appropriated by Midchekoff as his private library, simply furnished, and connected with a still smaller chamber, where, in an alcove, a species of divan stood, on which it was the rich man's caprice at times to pass the night Although certain traces showed that the Prince had been recently there, no letters nor papers lay about; there was no sign of haste or negligence, nor was anything left to the accidents of prying eyes or meddling fingers. D'Esmonde opened the door which conducted into the corridor, and listened; but all was silent He then sat down to think. The palace--for such, under the name of villa, it was--was of immense extent, and he could not expect to ramble many minutes without chancing upon some of the household. His color came and went, as, in deep agitation, he conceived in turn every possible project, for he was one whose mind worked with all the violent throes of some mighty engine; and even when taking counsel with himself, the alternate impulses of his reason became painful efforts. At last he made up his resolve, and, entering the inner chamber, he closed the shutters and drew the curtains; and then, throwing around his shoulders a richly lined cloak of sable, he rang the bell loudly and violently. This done,