in exceeding good humour," said the friend of this morose and
moralising bridegroom.

A pause ensued, during which Federico's heart beat so strongly that he
thought its throbbings must surely be audible through the slight barrier
separating him from the speakers. A servant brought lights, and a
slender bright ray shot through a small opening in the tapestry,
previously unobserved by the student. Applying his eye to the crevice,
he obtained a view of the apartment, and of the persons whose
conversation he had overheard. One of these wore a uniform glittering
with embroidery; the other was dressed in black, with several stars and
orders on his breast. Both were in the middle period of life: the one in
uniform was the youngest and most agreeable looking; the dark features
of the other were of a sombre and unpleasing cast.

The servant left the room, and the man in black suspended his walk and
paused opposite his friend.

"You had something to communicate?" he said, in a suppressed voice.

"Are we secure from listeners?" asked the officer, in French.

"Entirely; and doubly so if we speak French. Rosaura herself, did she
overhear us, would be none the wiser."

"Count," said the soldier, "I sincerely wish you joy of this marriage."

"A thousand thanks! But with equal sincerity I tell you that I am
heartily weary of such congratulations. In marrying, one gives and
takes. I give Rosaura my name and rank, titles and dignities, honours
and privileges."

"And you take your lovely ward and a rich estate. A fair exchange,
Excellency. I can only say that the world wonders at the delay of so
suitable a union, and even inclines to the belief that a certain
disinclination----"

"The world is greatly mistaken," interrupted the Count. "I ardently love
Rosaura, and I have his Majesty's consent to the marriage. But what a
fool men take me for, if they suppose----" he stopped short, and tossed
his head with a scornful smile.

"Well?" said the officer.

"Solve the riddle yourself."

"I understand! Your position is uneasy, the future dark, the decisive
moment at hand. With one's feet on a volcano, one is little disposed to
enjoy a honeymoon."

"But when the mine explodes, and one is tossed into the air, it is
pleasant to fall in the soft lap of love, there to forget one's wounds."

"Bravo! But what if the lap refuse to receive the luckless engineer?"

"_Amigo!_" replied the Count--"I thought you knew me better. Under all
ci