nas, does its honors with the most consummate grace, and thus their fêtes have a European celebrity.
Franz and Albert had brought to Rome letters of introduction to them; and the first question on Franz's arrival was to ask him where was his traveling companion.
Franz replied that he had left him at the moment they were about to extinguish the moccoli, and that he had lost sight of him in the Via Macello.
"Then he has not returned?" said the duke.
"I waited for him until this hour," replied Franz.
"And do you know whither he went?"
"No, not precisely; however, I think it was something very like an assignation."
"Diavolo!" said the duke, "this is a bad day, or rather a bad night, to be out late; is it not, countess?"
These words were addressed to the Countess G, who had just arrived, and was leaning on the arm of M. Torlonia, the duke's brother.
"I think, on the contrary, that it is a charming night," replied the countess, "and those who are here will not complain but of one thing, that of its too rapid flight."
"I am not speaking," said the duke, with a smile, "of the persons who are here: the men run no other danger than that of falling in love with you, and the women of falling ill of jealousy at seeing you so lovely; I allude to persons who were out in the streets of Rome."
"Ah!" asked the countess, "who is out in the streets of Rome at this hour, unless it be to go to a ball?"
"Our friend, Albert de Morcerf, countess, whom I left in pursuit of his unknown about seven o'clock this evening," said Franz, "and whom I have not seen since."
"And don't you know where he is?"
"Not at all."
"Is he armed?"
"He is en paillasse."
"You should not have allowed him to go," said the duke to Franz; "you who know Rome better than he does."
"You might as well have tried to stop number three of the barberi, who gained the prize in the race to-day," replied Franz; "and then, moreover, what could happen to him?"
"Who can tell! The night is gloomy, and the Tiber is very near the Via Macello." Franz felt a shudder run through his veins at observing the feeling of the duke and the countess so much in unison with his own personal disquietude.
