He had scarcely vanished, before footsteps were heard ascending the
marble staircase on the other side, and the sound of a voice humming a
popular air of the court.
The stranger was a young man of about five-and-twenty, habited with all
that richness and brilliancy of coloring which the fashion of the day
permitted to a young exquisite. His mantle of purple velvet falling
jauntily off from one shoulder disclosed a doublet of amber satin richly
embroidered with gold and seed-pearl. The long white plume which drooped
from his cap was held in its place by a large diamond which sparkled
like a star in the evening twilight. His finely moulded hands were
loaded with rings, and ruffles of the richest Venetian lace encircled
his wrists. He had worn over all a dark cloak with a peaked hood, the
usual evening disguise in Italy; but as he gained the top-stair of the
platform, he threw it carelessly down and gayly offered his hand.
"Good even to you, cousin mine! So you see I am as true to my
appointment as if your name were Leonora or Camilla instead of Agostino.
How goes it with you? I wanted to talk with you below, but I saw we must
have a place without listeners. Our friends the saints are too high in
heavenly things to make mischief by eavesdropping."
"Thank you, Cousin Carlos, for your promptness. And now to the point.
Did your father, my uncle, get the letter I wrote him about a month
since?"
"He did; and he bade me treat with you about it.
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