s at hand, and then was taken up by the chimes of a large German
clock in the hall.

'It may be,' said the porter, 'but I can't disturb master now; the
Spanish ambassador is with him, and others are waiting. When he is gone,
a clerk will take in your letter with some others that are here.'

At this moment, and while Tancred remained in the hall, various persons
entered, and, without noticing the porter, pursued their way across the
apartment.

'And where are those persons going?' inquired Tancred.

The porter looked at the enquirer with a blended gaze of curiosity and
contempt, and then negligently answered him without looking in Tancred's
face, and while he was brushing up the hearth, 'Some are going to the
counting-house, and some are going to the Bank, I should think.'

'I wonder if our hall porter is such an infernal bully as Monsieur de
Sidonia's!' thought Tancred.

There was a stir. 'The ambassador is coming out,' said the hall porter;
'you must not stand in the way.'

The well-trained ear of this guardian of the gate was conversant with
every combination of sound which the apartments of Sequin Court could
produce. Close as the doors might be shut, you could not rise from your
chair without his being aware of it; and in the present instance he was
correct. A door at the end of the hall opened, and the Spanish minister
came forth.

'Stand aside,' said the hall porter to Tancred; and, summoning the
servants without, he ushered his excellency with some reverence to his
carriage.

'Now your letter will go in with the others,' he said to Tancred, whom
for a few moments he left alone, and then returned, taking no notice of
our young friend, but, depositing his bulky form in his hooded chair, he
resumed the city article of the _Times_.

The letter ran thus:

'Dear Sidonia: This will be given you by my cousin Montacute, of whom
I spoke to you yesterday. He wants to go to Jerusalem, which very much
perplexes his family, for he is an only child. I don't suppose the
danger is what they imagine. But still there is nothing like experience,
and there is no one who knows so much of these things as yourself. I
have promised his father and mother, very innocent people, whom of all
my relatives, I most affect, to do what I can for him. If, therefore,
you can aid Montacute, you will really serve me. He seems to have
character, though I can't well make him out. I fear I indulged in the
hock yesterday, for I feel a twi