“Expect him.  Is he coming here then?”

“Yes.  Why, I thought you were aware of that, he has been long promising to pay us a visit, and at last, by great persuasion, we have succeeded in getting him across the sea, and, indeed, were it not that he was coming, we should have been in Florence before this.”

A gleam of hope shot through my heart as I said to myself, what can this visit mean? and the moment after I felt sick, almost to fainting, as I asked if “my cousin Guy were also expected.”

“Oh yes.  We shall want him I should think” said Lord Callonby with a very peculiar smile.

I thought I should have fallen at these few words.  Come, Harry, thought I, it is better to learn your fate at once.  Now or never; death itself were preferable to this continued suspense.  If the blow is to fall, it can scarcely sink me lower than I now feel:  so reasoning, I laid my hand upon Lord Callonby’s arm, and with a face pale as death, and a voice all but inarticulate, said,

“My Lord, you will pardon, I am sure—­”

“My dear Lorrequer,” said his lordship interrupting me, “for heaven’s sake sit down.  How ill you are looking, we must nurse you, my poor fellow.”

I sank upon a bench—­the light danced before my eyes—­the clang of the music sounded like the roar of a waterfall, and I felt a cold perspiration burst over my face and forehead; at the same instant, I recognized Kilkee’s voice, and without well knowing why, or how, discovered myself in the open air.

“Come, you are better now,” said Kilkee, “and will be quite well when you get some supper, and a little of the tokay, his majesty has been good enough to send us.”

“His majesty desires to know if his excellency is better,” said an aide de camp.

I muttered my most grateful acknowledgments.

“One of the court carriages is in waiting for your excellency,” said a venerable old gentleman in a tie wig, whom I recognized as the minister for foreign affairs—­as he added in a lower tone to Lord Callonby, “I fear he has been greatly overworked lately—­his exertions on the subject of the Greek loan are well known to his majesty.”

“Indeed,” said Lord Callonby, with a start of surprise, “I never heard of that before.”

If it had not been for that start of amazement, I should have died of terror.  It was the only thing that showed me I was not out of my senses, which I now concluded the old gentleman must be, for I never had heard of the Greek loan in my life before.

“Farewell, mon cher colleague,” said the venerable minister as I got into the carriage, wondering as well I might what singular band of brotherhood united one of his majesty’s __th with the minister for foreign affairs of the Court of Bavaria.

When I arrived at the White-cross, I found my nerves, usually proof to any thing, so shaken and shattered, that fearing with the difficult game before me any mistake, however trivial, might mar all my fortunes for ever, I said a good night to my friends, and went to bed.