"Well met, Messer Donati. I can only say I am sorry we parted so soon. I would have given much to have had you in Florence for a few days more."
"Your excellency is most kind."
"St. Dennis!" said the cardinal, "but are you gentlemen going to exchange compliments, and starve instead of sitting to supper. Burin, are we not ready?" and he turned to his grey-haired major-domo, who had entered the room.
"Your eminence is served," replied the man, and we took our seats on each side of the table, D'Amboise between us.
"You need not wait, Burin, but remain in the passage." Burin stepped out silently, and the cardinal said with an air of apology, "You must not mind so informal a repast, gentlemen; but we have much to discuss--pleasure first, however--my maitre d'hotel has an artist's soul, and he will have a fit if we do not touch this pasty."
The cardinal ate and talked. I now and then put in a word, but the secretary was very silent, and hardly touched anything.
"St. Dennis!" said D'Amboise, "but your excellency is a poor trencherman. And I heard so much of you!"
"Your eminence will excuse me, when I say I have had bad news."
D'Amboise became grave at once. "Let me say how sorry I am. It is not a matter of state?" and he glanced meaningly at the secretary.
"Not in the least; but much worse--a domestic matter. I do not see why I should not tell you. That cursed brigand Baglioni has seized on my ward Angiola Castellani, and holds her a fast prisoner in Perugia."