Catherine tripped lightly away, laughing in pleased anticipation of the fine trick Cellini proposed to play upon Pagolo, of the nature of which, however, she could not form the least conception.
Benvenuto, when she had left him, did not resume his work, as he had said; he rushed to the window which looked obliquely upon the garden of the Petit-Nesle, and stood there in rapt contemplation. A knock at the door rudely aroused him from his reverie.
"Hail and tempest!" he cried in a rage, "who is there now? can I not be left in peace? Ten thousand devils!"
"Forgive me, master," said Ascanio's voice; "if I disturb you, I will go away."
"What! is it you, my child? No, no, surely not; you never disturb me. What is it, pray? what do you want with me!"
Benvenuto lost no time in opening the door for his beloved pupil.
"I interfere with your solitude and your work," said Ascanio.
"No, Ascanio, you are always welcome."
"Master, I have a secret to confide to you, a service to ask of you."
"Speak. Will you have my purse? do you need my arm or my thoughts?"