to defend
Monte-Leone only against the ordinary perils of life, against the
rivalry excited by his triumphs, and not against the serious dangers to
which his opinions subjected him. I soon heard the rumors which were
being circulated about the Count, learned of his danger, and the
perilous part he had to play in relation to the secret societies. I
learned all this from public rumor, but I needed other aid and
information to guide me in the defence of him I loved. Among those most
carried away by my talent, and if I must say so, most captivated by my
beauty, was the Duke of Palma, minister of police. I received the
minister kindly, and without yielding to his persuasions, conferred
trifling favors on him. His confidence in me was immense. When I was
stern to him he became desperate, but he professed there was such a
charm in my company that he sought constantly to see me. Minister as he
was, he became not my _sicisbeo_, for that I would consent to at no
price, but my _cavaliero sirviente_, thus occupying the second grand
hierarchy of love. I learned from the minister himself the snares
prepared for Monte-Leone, twenty times I informed your friend of them,
and enabled him to avoid them. In the same manner I heard of your
imprudent folly at the ball of San-Carlo, and you know what I did to
avert its consequences. A certain Lippiani, a skilful officer placed by
means of my influence in the Neapolitan police, while paying a visit of
inspection to the jailor of the Castle _Del Uovo_, contrived to
introduce into the prisoner's loaf the mysterious information he
received. The imagination, or rather the genius of the Count, inspired
him with a design to secure his liberty. To assure the success of this
ruse, the Count escaped for some hours from his prison, and amid that
season of trouble, energy, and anguish, Monte-Leone lost the famous ring
he always wears. This loss again placed his life and liberty in danger.
Then I conceived a hardy and bold plan, which cannot succeed without
your aid and devotion. On that, however, for you so promised me, I rely.
I learned that you were a prisoner, but were about to be released. You
can then aid me, but it is necessary to awake no suspicion. Aware of
every outlet to the palace, which had often been shown to me by the Duke
of Palma, I remembered a certain secret passage and door hidden in a
pillar, whither the Duke often comes, to hear, unseen, the examinations
of prisoners. Thither I sough