All went well at first. The gateway of the mansion was open; he crossed the courtyard and entered the reception-room, where stood a tall footman with lace on all the seams of his livery,—a sort of colossus four feet wide and six high.
"Who are you?" he demanded, eying the goldsmith from head to foot.
At another time Benvenuto would have answered his insolent stare by one of his customary violent outbursts, but it was essential that he should see Colombe. Ascanio's welfare was at stake: so he restrained himself.
"I am Benvenuto Cellini, the Florentine goldsmith," he replied.
"What do you wish?"
"To see Mademoiselle Colombe."
"Mademoiselle Colombe is not visible."
"Why is she not visible?"
"Because her father, Messire d'Estourville, Provost of Paris, gave her in charge to Madame d'Etampes, and requested her to keep an eye upon her."
"But I am a friend."