height, that Glyndon arrived at the palace. The porter, perceiving by
his dress that he was not one of the invited guests, told him that
his Excellency was engaged, and on no account could be disturbed;
and Glyndon then, for the first time, became aware how strange and
embarrassing was the duty he had taken on himself. To force an entrance
into the banquet-hall of a great and powerful noble, surrounded by the
rank of Naples, and to arraign him for what to his boon-companions would
appear but an act of gallantry, was an exploit that could not fail to be
at once ludicrous and impotent. He mused a moment, and, slipping a piece
of gold into the porter's hand, said that he was commissioned to seek
the Signor Zanoni upon an errand of life and death, and easily won his
way across the court, and into the interior building. He passed up the
broad staircase, and the voices and merriment of the revellers smote
his ear at a distance. At the entrance of the reception-rooms he found
a page, whom he despatched with a message to Zanoni. The page did the
errand; and Zanoni, on hearing the whispered name of Glyndon, turned to
his host.

"Pardon me, my lord; an English friend of mine, the Signor Glyndon (not
unknown by name to your Excellency) waits without,--the business must
indeed be urgent on which he has sought me in such an hour. You will
forgive my momentary absence."

"Nay, signor," answered the prince, courteously, but with a sinister
smile on his countenance, "would it not be better for your friend
to join us? An Englishman is welcome everywhere; and even were he a
Dutchman, your friendship would invest his presence with attraction.
Pray his attendance; we would not spare you even for a moment."

Zanoni bowed; the page was despatched with all flattering messages