Barbagallo was already threatening, under his breath, to call for help to overcome his resistance. The persons who were nearest them glanced with an expression of satirical surprise at this strange young man at odds with the majordomo of the palace. The ladies gathered up their skirts and drew back into the crowd, to be farther away from him. They thought that he might be a pickpocket who had found his way into the ball-room, or some insolent intriguer who was about to cause a scandal. But just as poor Michel was on the point of swooning with wrath and shame, for the blood was already roaring in his ears, and his legs were giving way, a faint cry, not two yards away, drove all the blood back to his heart. It seemed to him that he had heard that cry before, a cry of grief, surprise and affection, all in one, in the midst of his sleep on the evening of his arrival at the palace. Obeying an instinctive impulse of confidence and hope, which he could not explain to himself, he turned in the direction of that friendly voice and darted forward at random, as if to seek refuge on the breast from which it issued. Suddenly he found himself close beside the princess, with his hand in hers, which pressed it tremblingly but warmly. That movement and that expression of their mutual emotion were as rapid as the lightning flash. The amazed spectators opened a passage for the princess, who walked across the hall, leaning upon Michel, leaving her partner in the middle of his final bow, the majordomo in utter dismay, wishing that he could sink through the floor, and the spectators laughing at the good man's discomfiture, and concluding that Michel was some young foreigner of distinction recently arrived at Catania, to whom the princess made haste to atone, with graceful tact and without useless words, for her majordomo's blunder. [Illustration: _THE BALL AT THE PALMAROSA PALACE._ _When Signora Agatha reached the foot of the great staircase, where there were few people, she had recovered her tranquillity; but Michel was trembling more than ever._] When Signora Agatha reached the foot of the great staircase, where there were few people, she had recovered her tranquillity; but Michel was trembling more than ever. "Doubtless she is going to show me the door herself," he thought, "without allowing anyone to divine her purpose. She is too great and too kind not to rescue me from the insults of her servants and the contempt of her guests; but the advice she is going to give me will be none the less deadly. This probably means the ruin of all my future prospects, and the wreck of the life I have dreamed of will lie here on the threshold of her palace."