"I will remain in hiding here with you until we have seen the cardinal and his procession start for Ficarazzi. It won't be long. If it is true that he is deaf and dumb, he will not have a long interview with his niece. As soon as we no longer run the risk of meeting him there, we will go to the Palmarosa palace, where I am at work now. I will conceal you in some corner; then I will go and consult the princess."
"Is the princess in your interest, then?"
"She is my most powerful and most generous patron. She employs me a great deal, and I hope that, thanks to her, we shall not be persecuted."
"Oh! father, was it she who gave you the money which enabled me to pay my debts?"
"Lent it my boy, lent it. I knew well enough that you would not accept alms, but she gives me so much work that I can pay her gradually."
"You may say: 'Soon,' father, for I am here! I have come to pay my debt to you; my journey has no other purpose."
"What, my dear child! have you sold a picture? have you earned some money?"
"Alas! no. I am not yet skilful enough or well enough known to earn money. But I have arms, and I know enough to paint frescoes for decoration. We will work together, my dear father, and I shall never again have to blush to think that I am leading the life of an artist, while you are wearing out your strength to gratify my misplaced tastes."
"Are you in earnest, Michel?" cried the old man. "You really mean to be a workman?"
"I am fully determined upon it. I have sold my canvases, my engravings, my books. I have given up my lodgings, thanked my teacher, bade farewell to friends, to Rome, to glory. It was a little hard," added Michel, feeling that his eyes were filling with tears; "but embrace me, father; tell me that you are content with your son, and I shall be proud of what I have done!"