word, I will appear for the benefit of La Felina. The brave girl and
myself will not even then be quits."

"Thank you, Count," said Pignana, as he left--"and now, adieu, until we
meet at San Carlo."

* * * * *

A few hours after the scene we have described, an immense crowd thronged
every entry to the theatre of San Carlo. It was not, however, the joyous
crowd intoxicated with folly which we have seen hurry into its precincts
at the commencement of this story. On this occasion the public seemed
rather busy than in search of pleasure. It was a matter of importance,
indeed, to be present at the last appearance of La Felina. The keys of
the boxes, therefore, according to the Italian custom, were sold at the
door of the theatre, and at double the usual price. I speak only of the
small number of boxes, the proprietors of which were absent from Naples.
We may also as well add, that in Naples a box is often _property_. All
the other boxes were occupied by illustrious personages, or by the
wealthiest inhabitants of the great city. San Carlo on that night was
brilliant as possible. The Count had just come. The women glittered with
flowers and diamonds. As on the occasion of the masked ball, the theatre
was illuminated _a giorno_. No detail of the festival, no beauty present
could escape observation. Count Monte-Leone appeared in the box which
had been reserved for him, which soon became the object of every
lorgnette and the theme of every conversation. He bore this annoying
attention with icy _sang-froid_, seeming even not to observe it. His
vanity, however, was secretly gratified, and we have said that this was
his weak point. The overture began, and the curtain was finally raised.
During this time, and the first scenes of the opera, the private
conversation was so loud and animated that the singers and orchestra
were almost overpowered. Suddenly silence was restored--admiration as
respectful as that which precedes a sovereign's arrival pervaded all.

The true Queen of Naples, at this moment, was La Felina. This complete
calmness was soon succeeded by a thunder of applause. A thousand voices
uttered a long shout of commingled bravos and hurras. La Felina was on
the stage. This delirium produced by a single person, this passionate
worship expressed by an almost furious admiration, those thousand hearts
hung to the lips of a single person, is found only on the stage, and was
one of the triumphs