Meanwhile, Julius Luxmore followed the little page across the hall to the opposite room, where the boy left him to go and bring refreshments. “So—so,” mused Julius when thus left alone—“that clever quadroon man-of-business, Louis, who gave the late lamented Madame L’Orient so much trouble, and who might have given me a deal more, is now out of everybody’s way—good. And his place as premier is not supplied—better. I will endeavor to supply it—best. Come, Julius Luxmore, your star is in the ascendant.” While thus he soliloquized, Frivole reappeared, bringing a waiter with lights and refreshments, that he arranged upon the table. “Where is your young mistress?” inquired Mr. Luxmore of the boy, hesitating to designate her as Miss L’Orient or as the princess, for the simple reason, that he was ignorant of how much this boy might be imbued with the illusions of his master. “The princess has gone to bed,” replied Frivole. Mr. Luxmore understood,—whether from credulity or policy, the negroes of the place entered into the humor of their master’s monomania. The only doubt left to be cleared upon this subject was, whether they believed in or flattered the royal assumptions of the old man. And this problem Julius determined to solve—if he could. But Julius Luxmore, with all his cunning, was no match for the secretiveness of the youngest negro on the Isle. He dared not, in many words, ask his young attendant if he considered his master a madman. And to all his astute observations and indirect questions, intended to draw out the boy’s thoughts upon the subject, Frivole replied with a tact of evasion quite equal to the questioner’s art of investigation. The boy’s manner was graceful, smooth, and subtle. Mr. Luxmore felt himself playing with some beautiful, slippery serpent, whose evolutions were all charming, but who might possibly turn and sting him. He let Frivole alone. When his meal was finished, the boy offered to show him up to his sleeping apartment. And Mr. Luxmore arose and accepted his services. He was conducted up stairs and introduced into the second floor, front, right-hand chamber, the best in the house. From the front windows of this room, Mr. Luxmore looked out to sea, and saw his schooner riding at anchor a short distance from the coast. Some little anxiety he felt upon the subject of this vessel, left all night in the hands of the negro crew; but, after mature deliberation, he decided that it was best that he should remain for the night the guest of Monsieur De L’Ile. So he left the vessel to its fate, and went to bed.