"And what is your purpose for yourself, Guy Falconer?" asked the Countess. "It would not serve you to take shelter at any house of mine."
"I purpose keeping concealed for a while, and then renewing my studies, if safe; quitting the city, if not—but I must be guided by circumstances, and Pierre, whom I like and trust."
"And de good Lord who guide dem all," said Phœbe.
"True," said Guy; "I do not forget to ask Him."
"Bless de Lord, den you be all right, nebber fear."
Pierre guided the visitors into the best way home, and returned to his master to do what he could for his comfort, and wait until it should be time to meet Phœbe and the note.
"There was news to-day," he said, "of some scheme just found out, to set Rome free of so many cardinals and priests, but the Count is too great to be in it."
Guy thought of the General, and the tone of some remarks he had heard in conversation with the Count, and felt little doubt himself that suspicion had fallen upon him, and that he had been arrested secretly. For himself, he felt no particular uneasiness, though annoyed at the interruption of his work, and waste of precious time.
Wrapped in a warm cloak and travelling rug, secured by the forethought of Pierre, and with his head leaning against a marble pedestal that might once have borne a triumph of forgotten skill, Guy fell asleep, and dreamed of home.
His sweet mother with loving smile and gentle word; his sister, or rather sisters, Maude and Evelyn, with their bright companionship and never-failing sympathy; the fatherly interest of the generous Squire, and the watchful care of the grateful mistress of The Moat, all played conspicuous parts in the mental drama; and over the sleeper's fine young face wafted an occasional smile of apparent pleasure and content, which she who stood looking upon him in the grey light of early morning would not hasten to disturb.