ely furnished chamber opening upon a vast garden. There
was something in the dim half-light, the heavily perfumed air, rich with
the odor of the orange and the lime, and the stillness, that imparted
a sense of solemnity to the scene, where, indeed, few words were
interchanged, and each seemed to ponder long after every syllable of the
other.

We have no mysteries with our reader, and we hasten to say that one of
these personages was the Chevalier Stubber,--confidential minister of
the Duke of Massa; the other was our old acquaintance Billy Traynor. If
there was some faint resemblance in the fortunes of these two men, who,
sprung from the humblest walks of life, had elevated themselves by
their talents to a more exalted station, there all likeness between them
ended. Each represented, in some of the very strongest characteristics,
a nationality totally unlike that of the other: the Saxon, blunt,
imperious, and decided; the Celt, subtle, quick-sighted, and suspicious,
distrustful of all, save his own skill in a moment of difficulty.

"But you have not told me his real name yet," said the Chevalier, as
he slowly smoked his cigar, and spoke with the half-listlessness of a
careless inquirer.

"I know that, sir," said Billy, cautiously; "I don't see any need of
it."

"Nor your own, either," remarked the other.

"Nor even that, sir," responded Billy, calmly.

"It comes to this, then, my good friend," rejoined Stubber, "that,
having got yourself into trouble, and having discovered, by the aid of a
countryman, that a little frankness would serve you greatly, you prefer
to preserve a mystery that I could easily penetrate if I cared for it,
to speaking openly and freely, as a man might with one of his own."

"We have no mysteries, sir. We have family secrets that don't regard any
one but ourselves. My young ward, or pupil, whichever I ought to call
him, has, maybe, his own reasons for leading a life of unobtrusive
obscurity, and what one may term an umbrageous existence. It's enough
for me to know that, to respect it."

"Come, come, all this is very well if you were at liberty, or if you
stood on the soil of your own country; but remember where you are now,
and what accusations are hanging over you. I have here beside me very
grave charges indeed,--constant and familiar intercourse with leaders of
the Carbonari--"

"We don't know one of them," broke in Billy.

"Correspondence with others beyond the frontier," continued