then he could not see about the
dance."

This jest did not arouse my mirth; the matter promised to be too serious.

Therese had asked me to dine with the Abbe Gama and M. Sassi, a worthy
man, if one may prostitute the name of man to describe a being whom
cruelty has separated from the rest of humanity; he was the first
castrato of the opera. Of course the Jew's mishap was discussed.

"I am sorry for him," said I, "though he is a rascally fellow."

"I am not at all sorry for him myself," said Sassi, "he's a knave."

"I daresay that everybody will be putting down his wooden baptism to my
account."

"No," said the abbe, "people say that M. Casanova did the deed for good
reasons of his own."

"It will be difficult to pitch on the right man," I answered, "the rascal
has pushed so many worthy people to extremities that he must have a great
many thrashings owing him."

The conversation then passed to other topics, and we had a very pleasant
dinner.

In a few days the Jew left his bed with a large plaster on his nose, and
although I was generally regarded as the author of his misfortune the
matter was gradually allowed to drop, as there were only vague suspicions
to go upon. But the Corticelli, in an ecstasy of joy, was stupid enough
to talk as if she were sure it was I who had avenged her, and she got
into a rage when I would not admit the deed; but, as may be guessed, I
was not foolish enough to do so, as her imprudence might have been a
hanging matter for me.

I was well enough amused at Florence, and had no thoughts of leaving,
when one day Vannini gave me a letter which someone had left for me. I
opened it in his presence, and found it contained a bill of exchange for
two hundred Florentine crowns on Sasso Sassi. Vannini looked at it and
told me it was a good one. I went into my room to read the letter, and I
was astonished to find it signed "Charles Ivanoff." He dated it from
Pistoia, and told me that in his poverty and misfortune he had appealed
to an Englishman who was leaving Florence for Lucca, and had generously
given him a bill of exchange for two hundred crowns, which he had written
in his presence. It was made payable to bearer.

"I daren't cash it in Florence," said he, "as I am afraid of being
arrested for my unfortunate affair at Genoa. I entreat you, then, to have
pity on me, to get the bill cashed, and to bring me the money here, that
I may pay my landlord and go."

It looked like a very simple