Nevertheless I thought it well to be on the watch, knowing that a dagger thrust is easily sent home, and there was the certainty, too, that the fact of my coming to Rome with a letter was known to the Medici plotters in Florence, and evidently it was their object to frustrate its delivery. What puzzled me, however, was that the look the young man directed to me was not unfriendly, and it struck me that if I could only hear his voice it might give me some clue to a recognition. The two had come a little between me and the door, and I was just about to contest the place with a view of forcing their hands if possible, when the door was flung open and the same page who had taken my name appeared and called out-- "Signor Donati, his eminence awaits you." As the door opened there was a general movement towards it. But the cry of the page in a moment arrested the crowd, turning the look of anticipation on the faces of all to one of disappointment, and a loud murmuring arose against my being so favored. I lost not a second in stepping forward, and in doing so purposely brushed against the young man near to me, turning round as I did so with a somewhat brusque "By your leave, sir." I fully expected that he would resent my rudeness and make some speech, but he merely bowed his head with a courteous inclination, showing a set of small and even teeth as he smiled under his blonde moustache. I was a little put out by the failure of my plan, but the next instant the door closed behind me, and at any rate the letter to the cardinal was safe, and my task was as good as accomplished. I followed the page therefore with an equal mind, and lifting a curtain, which fell in heavy folds at the end of the passage, where a couple of gorgeous lackeys stood, he called out "Messer Donati," and then stepped aside to let me pass. I entered the room with a firm step, and saw before me a large, but plainly-furnished apartment. In a lounge chair near a small table, on which was set out a light repast, was a man whom I at once guessed to be the cardinal. He wore a purple robe, and the barettina or small skull cap, which covered the tonsure on his head, allowed his short grey hair, which curled naturally, to be seen around it. Under the cap I saw a square resolute face with keen black eyes, and a full but kindly mouth. He was just putting down a glass of vernaccia as I came in, and I caught the purple glitter of the sapphire ring he wore in token of his rank, as he set down the glass. He was not alone, for, leaning against the window and caressing the head of an enormous wolf-hound, was a splendidly-dressed cavalier, who looked up as I came in, and I saw at once it was Bayard. I kept my eyes away from him, however, and advancing straight towards the cardinal, placed the letter before him without a word.