for Amy, after some qualms of conscience
respecting chaperonage, propriety, and Mrs. Grundy, had yielded to my
entreaties and gone for a drive with some friends. In spite of the
fears she began to entertain concerning the Mephistophelian character
of Raffaello Cellini, there was one thing of which both she and I felt
morally certain: namely, that no truer or more honourable gentleman
than he ever walked on the earth. Under his protection the loveliest
and loneliest woman that ever lived would have been perfectly safe--as
safe as though she were shut up, like the princess in the fairy-tale,
in a brazen tower, of which only an undiscoverable serpent possessed
the key. When I arrived, the rooms were deserted, save for the presence
of a magnificent Newfoundland dog, who, as I entered, rose, and shaking
his shaggy body, sat down before me and offered me his huge paw,
wagging his tail in the most friendly manner all the while, I at once
responded to his cordial greeting, and as I stroked his noble head, I
wondered where the animal had come from; for though--we had visited
Signor Cellini's studio every day, there had been no sign or mention of
this stately, brown-eyed, four-footed companion. I seated myself, and
the dog immediately lay down at my feet, every now and then looking up
at me with an affectionate glance and a renewed wagging of his tail.
Glancing round the well-known room, I noticed that the picture I
admired so much was veiled by a curtain of Oriental stuff, in which
were embroidered threads of gold mingled with silks of various
brilliant hues. On the working easel was a large square canvas, already
prepared, as I supposed, for my features to be traced thereon. It was
an exceedingly warm morning, and though the windows as well as the
glass doors of the conservatory were wide open, I found the air of the
studio very oppressive. I perceived on the table a finely-wrought
decanter of Venetian glass, in which clear water sparkled temptingly.
Rising from my chair, I took an antique silver goblet from the
mantelpiece, filled it with the cool fluid, and was about to drink,
when the cup was suddenly snatched from my hands, and the voice of
Cellini, changed from its usual softness to a tone both imperious and
commanding, startled me.

"Do not drink that," he said; "you must not! You dare not! I forbid
you!"

I looked up at him in mute astonishment. His face was very pale, and
his large dark eyes shone with suppressed exci