Half an hour after this scene, the Legate once more ascended the steps of the Astor House, his cloak wound tightly about his slender form, his face,--and perchance the emotions written there,--cast into shadow by his broad sombrero. He was crossing the hall, flaring with gas-lights, when he was aroused from his reverie by these words,-- "My lord,--" The speaker was a man of some forty-five years, with a hard, unmeaning face, and vague gray eyes. His ungainly form,--for he was round-shouldered, knock-kneed and clumsily footed,--was clad in black, varied only by a strip of dirty white about his bull-like neck. As he stood obsequiously, hat in hand, his bald crown, scantily encircled by a few hairs of no particular color, was revealed; and also his low, broad forehead. He looked very much like an ecclesiastic, whom habits of passive obedience have converted into a human fossil. "My lord,--" "Pshaw, Michael, none of that nonsense here. Have you obeyed the directions which I gave you before I left the steamer to-night?" "I have, my--" 'lord,' he was about to say, but he substituted 'your excellence!'--"Your country seat, near the city, is in good order. Everything has been prepared in anticipation of your arrival. I have just returned from it,--Maryvale, I think you call it?" "Maryvale," replied the Legate, "Did you tell Felix to have my carriage ready for me, after midnight, at the place and the hour which I named?" "Yes, my lord,"--and Michael bowed low. "No more of that nonsense, I repeat it.--This is not the country for it. How did you dispose of Cain?" "I left Cain at the country seat." "It is well," said the Legate, and having spoken further words to Michael, in a lower tone, he dismissed him, and went silently to his chamber. And CAIN of whom they spoke. We shall see CAIN after a while. CHAPTER VI. "JOANNA." At the hour of eleven o'clock, on the night of December 23d, 1844, ----. A gentleman of immense wealth, who occupied his own mansion, in the upper part of New York, came from his library, and descended the broad staircase, which led to the first floor of his mansion. His slight frame was wrapped in a traveling cloak and a gay traveling cap shaded his features. He held a carpet-bag in his hand. Arrived on the first floor, he entered a magnificent range of apartments communicating with each other by folding-doors, and lighted by an elegant chandelier. Around him, wherever he turned, was everything in the form of luxury, that the eye could desire or the power of wealth procure. Thick carpets, massive mirrors, lofty ceiling, walls broken here and there with a niche in which a marble statue was placed--these and other signs of wealth, met his gaze at every step.