events were incidents in what might be called the grand denouement of Italian unity, the author would have to dwell upon details that belong rather to the journalist and the historian than to himself. The task would be pleasant enough, the general subject of sufficient importance for accuracy of date and circumstances; but the occurrences in question belong to this present narrative only by way of accessory fact and color.
It will be sufficient in respect of the adventures we are chronicling to say, at this point, that after many days of busy preparation the night of illumination came, a night fraught with tragic significance to certain of the actors in the drama of the life of Anna Klosstock. The King and Queen had performed their important and interesting functions, and the municipality and citizens of Venice had prepared the last of the impressive demonstrations of the week—the after-dark decoration of the city.
Looking from the balcony of the hotel on the Riva degli Schiavoni a wonderful sight was spread out before our friends, the Milbankes and the lovers. The city in the sea with ships and boats all one lurid blaze of light above, the moon looking on with its calm attendant stars. The island and church of San Giorgio Maggiore loomed up from the lagoon, the shore lying in dark shadow, the quay alive with people walking between a long row of blazing Marguerite daisies in honor of the Queen Margherita, the church made strikingly distinct in its outline of pale green lamps which were in delicate contrast to the Bengal lights of some adjacent shipping. In the centre of the island the Lion of St. Mark's stood out against the sky, flanked with the letters U. and M. in colored fires.
On the left, looking down the lagoon, the Peninsular and Oriental steamer was gayer than the two Italian war ships lying off the Arsenal, the English captain having converted his slumbering vessel into something that might
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