"It needs not--you did so unwittingly," said the Earl, in the same language, which he spoke fluently,--and then in English to Ellen, "He is a foreigner, and knows not the meaning if he heard any of our conversation." The boy was slight in figure and apparently very youthful; his face was exceedingly handsome--his hair black and falling over his neck in glossy bands--his complexion was olive--his eyes large, full and lustrous with the Italian fire; but his expression of countenance was poetic, and very melancholy. His dress argued he had known better days, although the velvet mantle and cap were worn and faded in appearance; in his hand he carried a lute. "And why have you left sunny Italy," asked the Earl, "and come to the cold North?" "Alas! signore, Italia is now no home to me! My father and mother were both cruelly executed, and I driven an outcast from the land of my birth. Ah! signore, I have known happier times. I am an exile now from the land I love, and forced to roam a foreign shore, and gain a pittance from my lute. I cannot return to Italia's olive groves--I am very sad." "Poor boy!--but what brought you hither?" asked the Earl, still speaking in Italian. "I was travelling to Edinburgh--the sun was hot, and I was weary with walking; your roads are very hard. I wandered up the cool water's side, and I found this cavern, and thought I would rest a while in the cool grotto till the evening came. But I intrude, signore; I have disturbed you, fair lady; I will leave you, and proceed on my pilgrimage." "Not so," said the Earl, "you can touch the lute deftly. We have a pleasure party below--you shall play, and they will dance. I had forgotten a minstrel--I am glad you found us. Afterwards I will take you to the Towers, my house; its gates were never shut on outcast yet, nor was the houseless wanderer ever turned from its door. I will see what can be done for you, my poor boy; follow us." "Grazzia tanta, you are too good--I will gladly play. I know several English airs--but I will not trespass on your generosity, noble signore; let me then journey on." "We shall arrange all that," said the Earl, helping Ellen down the steps; "follow us." The three then crossed the dell, and descended the declivity far quicker than they climbed it; Ellen and her lover first, and following timidly behind the young musician, who was ill able to keep pace with Scotch mountaineers in their own rough woods. CHAPTER XVIII. "But one, a lone one, midst the throng Seemed reckless all of dance or song; He was a youth of dusky mien, Whereon the Indian sun had been, Of crested brow, and long black hair, A stranger like the palm-tree there!"--_Hemans._ "Why, where have you two been?" said Lady Florence, who, with her sister, the Marchioness, met the defaulters coming down the wood. "We have been looking for you everywhere, and every one is so impatient for dancing."