"This will restore you perfectly for to-night. To-morrow I will see you again, to know how you are then."
It was on the following day toward noon that Friar Peter entered the Episcopal Square, and approached the palace which had been hired for Lorenzo Visconti. He walked with downcast eyes and a thoughtful look, but none of the townspeople who passed him attributed any very high or holy meditations to the friar; for the Italians, especially of the lower class, are the most clear-sighted persons in the world into the depths of human character. "What is he calculating?" they thought; "what is he scheming now?"
With a quiet, almost noiseless step, he approached the wide gates of the palazzo, and asked for the signora.
"She is in the hall above with some French cavaliers, father," replied the janitore; "you can go up."
"I would rather see her alone," answered the friar; "I attended upon her last night when she fainted at the Villa Ramiro, and wish to speak to her about her health. Can you not call her out of the hall for a moment?"
The porter led him to the door of the hall, and, leaving him there, entered alone. He was gone but a moment, and then returning, led the friar up another flight of stairs to Eloise's chamber, where he left him, saying that his lady would be up in a few minutes.
He closed the door when he departed, and Mardocchi gazed around him with no small curiosity and interest. There were many ornaments scattered round the room--little works of art, beautiful trifles and invaluable gems. Mardocchi remarked all, examined all, and handled not a few. Among the rest he took up the small picture of Lorenzo's mother, which the young prefect had left there on the night of his arrival. He gazed at the face for a moment or two, seeming to have some faint remembrance of the features, and then examined the case with some curiosity. He was not long in discovering the spring by which the back opened, and the powders and inscription were exposed to view.
"A cure for the ills of life!" he said: and then, as if something which required thought suddenly struck him, he seated himself, and with his eyes fixed upon the case, fell into profound meditation.
The reader will remember that there was a smaller chamber next to that of Eloise; and a door of communication between the two. As the friar sat there thinking, that door moved slightly on its hinges, and a chink appeared through which one might have passed a Spanish crown piece,--no larger.
A few minutes after, the countess entered. Mardocchi had the picture with the case still open in his hand; but he laid it not down as might have been expected. On the contrary, he rose from his seat, and, bowing his head, said, with a humble air: