s,
"a carriage awaits, but not to convey me to the Castle _Del Uovo_."

Then casting on the Count a glance instinct with sadness and regret, she
offered her hand to Taddeo, who covered it with kisses, and preceded by
Giacomo left the room. For some moments the two friends looked at each
other in silence. Taddeo then went towards the door, saying:

"But I am a fool to let her escape thus."

He crossed the court and went to the door of the room. The carriage,
however, was gone, and far in the distance he heard the sound of the
wheels.

II.--A LAST APPEARANCE.

The hearts of Monte-Leone and of Taddeo Rovero were, after the departure
of the singer, in very different conditions. Monte-Leone, delighted with
the present, and with the prospect of future success, to be attained as
the husband of Aminta, forgot all else--even the terrible responsibility
which weighed on him as the chief of a faction of forbidden societies,
and the perpetual dangers with which it menaced him. Monte-Leone had an
energetic heart but a volatile mind, over which the accidents of life
glide like the runner of a sleigh over polished ice, almost without
leaving traces.

A circumstance of which we will speak of by and by, aroused the Count
from his peace of soul to cast him in the waves of that sea of politics
where shipwrecks are so common and tempests so usual. The only idea
which occupied Taddeo was to see La Felina again. He said rightly enough
that the rays of such a star could not long be concealed; that its glory
and success would always betray it, and that the farewell token of
Monte-Leone in the Etruscan house would not be for ever.

Under the influence, then, of very different sentiments, the two friends
returned to the Count's hotel at Naples. Less beautiful than the
magnificent palace of Monte-Leone, it did not, like the latter, render
indispensable the numerous and imposing array of servants, of which his
somewhat restricted fortune deprived Monte-Leone. Descried by its master
during the whole time of his seclusion, this hotel had been the scene of
the ruinous pleasures of the Count. Splendid festivals had been given
there; joyous suppers had been proposed, and the shadow of more than
one graceful dame, wrapped in silken folds, had been traced at midnight
on the great white marble wall of the portico.

Giacomo, who had left the Etruscan house at an early hour, had
superintended the preparation of the hotel for its master, and the