Michel rang the prescribed number of times, and the gate was immediately opened. A veiled woman stood there, impatiently awaiting them. In the darkness, she seized Michel's hand as he entered the garden, and the young artist, recognizing the Princess Agatha by that gentle pressure, trembled and lost his head, so that the Piccinino, who did not lose his, quietly removed the key which Michel had placed in the lock as he rang the bell. The bandit placed it in his belt after closing the gate, and when Michel remembered his oversight, it was too late to repair it. They had all three entered the princess's boudoir, and that was not the moment to seek a quarrel with a man so entirely free from timidity as the _Destatore's_ son. Agatha had been warned and as fully advised as possible of the character and habits of the man with whom it was necessary for her to enter into relations; she was too much of a Sicilian to have any serious prejudices against the profession of bandit, and she was determined to make the greatest pecuniary sacrifices in order to make certain of the Piccinino's services. Nevertheless, she felt, at sight of him, a painful emotion which she had difficulty in concealing from him; and when he kissed her hand, gazing at her with his bold and mocking eyes, she was conscious of a painful feeling of discomfort, and her face changed perceptibly, although she was able to maintain an affable and courteous demeanor. She knew that her first care must be to flatter the adventurer's secret vanity, by showing him much consideration and calling him _captain_ to his heart's content. So she did not fail to bestow that title upon him as she invited him to sit at her right hand, while there was a more familiar kindliness in her manner of waving Michel to a chair partly behind her, near the back of her couch. Then, leaning toward him without looking at him, and resting her elbow close to his shoulder, as if to be prepared to call his attention by a movement apparently accidental, she attempted to enter upon the business before them. But the Piccinino, noticing this manœuvre, and apparently considering that he was too far away from her, left his chair and unceremoniously seated himself beside her, on the sofa. At that moment the Marquis della Serra, who had probably been waiting in an adjoining room for the conversation to begin, entered noiselessly, saluted the bandit with silent courtesy, and sat down near Michel, after shaking hands with him. Michel felt reassured by the presence of the man whom he could not help looking upon as his rival. He had already begun to wonder if he should not soon be tempted to throw the Piccinino out of the window; and as such an exploit might well have some serious result, he hoped that the bandit would be so far restrained by the marquis's grave face and dignified bearing, that he would not dare to overstep the limits of propriety.