His Highness was in his bed-chamber; and Odo, on being admitted, found him, still in dressing-gown and night-cap, kneeling with a disordered countenance before the ancient picture of the Last Judgment that hung on the wall facing his bed.  He seemed to have forgotten that he had asked for his kinsman; for on the latter’s entrance he started up with a suspicious glance and hastily closed the panels of the picture, which (as Odo now noticed) appeared to conceal an inner painting.  Then, gathering his dressing-gown about him, he led the way to his closet and bade his visitor be seated.

“I have,” said he, speaking in a low voice, and glancing apprehensively about him, “summoned you hither privately to speak on a subject which concerns none but ourselves.—­You met no one on your way?” he broke off to enquire.

Odo told him that Count Trescorre had passed, but without perceiving him.

The Duke seemed relieved.  “My private actions,” said he querulously, “are too jealously spied upon by my ministers.  Such surveillance is an offence to my authority, and my subjects shall learn that it will not frighten me from my course.”  He straightened his bent shoulders and tried to put on the majestic look of his official effigy.  “It appears,” he continued, with one of his sudden changes of manner, “that the Duchess’s uncle, the Duke of Monte Alloro, has heard favourable reports of your wit and accomplishments, and is desirous of receiving you at his court.”  He paused, and Odo concealed his surprise behind a profound bow.

“I own,” the Duke went on, “that the invitation comes unseasonably, since I should have preferred to keep you at my side; but his Highness’s great age, and his close kinship to my wife, through whom the request is conveyed, make it impossible for me to refuse.”  The Duke again paused, as though uncertain how to proceed.  At length he resumed:—­“I will not conceal from you that his Highness is subject to the fantastical humours of his age.  He makes it a condition that the length of your stay shall not be limited; but should you fail to suit his mood you may find yourself out of favour in a week.  He writes of wishing to send you on a private mission to the court of Naples; but this may be no more than a passing whim.  I see no way, however, but to let you go, and to hope for a favourable welcome for you.  The Duchess is determined upon giving her uncle this pleasure, and in fact has consented in return to oblige me in an important matter.”  He flushed and averted his eyes.  “I name this,” he added with an effort, “only that her Highness may be aware that it depends on herself whether I hold to my side of the bargain.  Your papers are already prepared and you have my permission to set out at your convenience.  Meanwhile it were well that you should keep your preparations private, at least till you are ready to take leave.”  And with the air of dignity he could still assume on occasion, he rose and handed Odo his passport.