would have been ransacked from the cellars to the roof. Imprisonment and
fine would have been the inevitable fate of Felix, and the family would
very probably have suffered for the fault of one of its members. But
independent and determined to the last degree, Felix ran any risk rather
than surrender that which he had found, and which he deemed his own.
This unbending independence and pride of spirit, together with scarce
concealed contempt for others, had resulted in almost isolating him from
the youth of his own age, and had caused him to be regarded with dislike
by the elders. He was rarely, if ever, asked to join the chase, and
still more rarely invited to the festivities and amusements provided in
adjacent houses, or to the grander entertainments of the higher nobles.
Too quick to take offence where none was really intended, he fancied
that many bore him ill-will who had scarcely given him a passing
thought. He could not forgive the coarse jokes uttered upon his personal
appearance by men of heavier build, who despised so slender a stripling.

He would rather be alone than join their company, and would not compete
with them in any of their sports, so that, when his absence from the
arena was noticed, it was attributed to weakness or cowardice. These
imputations stung him deeply, driving him to brood within himself. He
was never seen in the courtyards or ante-rooms at the palace, nor
following in the train of the Prince, as was the custom with the
youthful nobles. The servility of the court angered and disgusted him;
the eagerness of strong men to carry a cushion or fetch a dog annoyed
him.

There were those who observed this absence from the crowd in the
ante-rooms. In the midst of so much intrigue and continual striving for
power, designing men, on the one hand, were ever on the alert for what
they imagined would prove willing instruments; and on the other, the