“Will my gracious Lord follow me?” and I was fain to trudge at his heels down a number of bat-dark corridors and vaulted passages, until at last we passed a doorway guarded by a mustachioed Spanish pikeman, when presto! I was in another world! Rich carpets were under our feet. The walls were hung with intricate tapestries; I caught the sniff of spring flowers from some garden. Wide windows, flung clear open, let in the ample April sunlight and the balmy breeze that blew across the Rhine. The turnkey led me up to a smooth-faced valet in brown livery, saluted, turned on his heel, and was gone to his own part of the castle, leaving me to follow my new guide, who with a bow and flourish worthy of a Parisian led me through several chambers, only to halt finally at another door and announce in sonorous Italian, “His Excellency the Conte di Palaestro.” “Let him enter,” returned a voice which I at once recognized as Forli’s, and I was instantly in the presence of the Cardinal. The prelate rose with his most condescending smile to greet me, would not let me kiss his hand, and insisted that I sit beside him upon the broad couch by the windows. Below us in admirable vista spread the muddy Rhine and the green Palatinate country to eastward. The manner of Forli was more than bland. A stranger would have believed this the meeting of an affectionate uncle and a highly dutiful nephew, a picture truly edifying and touching. Forli surveyed me carefully, noting with approval the fit of my clothes and my general carriage. “Admirably done. This Tuscan broadcloth makes another man of you. Marianna was very sure the dark blue would become you rarely, and she was right. What taste the girl has! She could qualify as a feminine Petronius, the Arbiter Elegantiae of the court of Nero. You recall the allusion, of course?” “Most decidedly. You are extremely apt. Marianna is all you say,” I rejoined in a tone that might have carried a trifle of sarcasm. “I knew you would applaud her choice. Poor maid, she has found your attitude so unflinching! but after all I said to her, ‘Remember Gualtiero is half a German, and the evil blood is bound to show itself at times; besides the poor fellow is bewitched. We will dispose of the wizard, and remove his victim to Italy. Then your heart will very promptly be mended.’” I felt the muscles of my forehead begin to twitch, but I am sure Forli saw nothing.