bade. At the thought, his bounding fancy slunk back humbled. He saw
himself as Trescorre's successor, his sovereign's official lover, taking
up again, under more difficult circumstances, and without the zest of
inexperience, the dull routine of his former bondage. No, a thousand
times no; he would fetter himself to no woman's fancy! Better find a
pretext for staying in Pianura, affront the Duchess by refusing her aid,
risk his prospects, his life even, than bow his neck twice to the same
yoke. All her charm vanished in this vision of unwilling
subjection...Disturbed by these considerations, and anxious to compose
his spirits, Odo bethought himself of taking refuge in the Bishop's
company. Here at least the atmosphere was clear of mystery: the Bishop
held aloof from political intrigue and breathed an air untainted by the
odium theologicum. Odo found his lordship seated in the cool tessellated
saloon which contained his chiefest treasures--marble busts ranged on
pedestals between the windows, the bronze Venus Callipyge, and various
tables of pietra commessa set out with vases and tazzas of antique
pattern. A knot of virtuosi gathered about one of these tables were
engaged in examining a collection of engraved gems displayed by a
lapidary of Florence; while others inspected a Greek manuscript which
the Bishop had lately received from Syria. Beyond the windows, a
cedrario or orange-walk stretched its sunlit vista to the terrace above
the river; and the black cassocks of one or two priests who were
strolling in the clear green shade of a pleached alley made pleasant
spots of dimness in the scene.

Even here, however, Odo was aware of a certain disquietude. The Bishop's
visitors, instead of engaging in animated disputations over his
lordship's treasures, showed a disposition to walk apart, conversing in
low tones; and he himself, presently complaining of the heat, invited
Odo to accompany him to the grot beneath the terrace. In this shaded