"The Countess is so good," thought he, "she has a hundred ways of aiding a young man's fortune: she will not compel me to be a priest when she shall learn I love one of her sex: one would almost think she does know it, for she cast a strange look on me, and said, 'A priest gives up much, too much.' I dare say she will give me a place about the palace." And with this hopeful reflection his mind was eased, and, being now at the entrance of the banqueting hall, he thanked his conductor, and ran hastily with joyful eyes to Margaret.

He came in sight of the table--she was gone.
Peter was gone too.

Nobody was at the table at all; only a citizen in sober garments had just tumbled under it dead drunk, and several persons were raising him to carry him away.

Gerard never guessed how important this solemn drunkard was to him: he was looking for "Beauty," and let the "Beast" lie.

He ran wildly round the hall, which was now comparatively empty.