“And yet one of his scenes did really represent the old donjon. I examined the locality to-day, and Christian Waldo, who is lodging at Stollborg, must certainly have done the same. The Italians—they are very bold fellows, your lordship, these Italians!”
“I see they are, M. Tebaldo. You say that this Waldo is lodging at Stollborg, and therefore must have painted this scene on purpose, and from nature. It is hardly probable that he could have done it so quickly. The resemblance between his decoration and the old tower must have been accidental.”
“I think not, your lordship; Waldo has great facility, and paints as rapidly as he improvises.”
“You know him, then?”
“Yes, your lordship.”
“What is his real name?”
“That is what I proposed to communicate to your lordship, if the sum I have mentioned does not seem to you exorbitant.”
“But what interest can I have in learning his real name?”
“An interest that is immense; all important.”
The emphasis with which the pretended Tebaldo pronounced these last words, seemed to make some impression on the baron.