he last four or five months had been condemned to partake of
Italian cookery--that is, the worst in the world. As for the count, he
just touched the dishes; he seemed to fulfil the duties of a host by
sitting down with his guests, and awaited their departure to be served
with some strange or more delicate food. This brought back to Franz, in
spite of himself, the recollection of the terror with which the count
had inspired the Countess G----, and her firm conviction that the man in
the opposite box was a vampire. At the end of the breakfast Franz took
out his watch. "Well," said the count, "what are you doing?"

"You must excuse us, count," returned Franz, "but we have still much to
do."

"What may that be?"

"We have no masks, and it is absolutely necessary to procure them."

"Do not concern yourself about that; we have, I think, a private room in
the Piazza del Popolo; I will have whatever costumes you choose brought
to us, and you can dress there."

"After the execution?" cried Franz.

"Before or after, whichever you please."

"Opposite the scaffold?"

"The scaffold forms part of the fete."

"Count, I have reflected on the matter," said Franz, "I thank you for
your courtesy, but I shall content myself with accepting a place in your
carriage and at your window at the Rospoli Palace, and I leave you at
liberty to dispose of my place at the Piazza del Popolo."

"But I warn you, you will lose a very curious sight," returned the
count.

"You will describe it to me," replied Franz, "and the recital from your
lips will make as great an impression on me as if I had witnessed it. I
have more than once intended witnessing an execution, but I have never
been able to make up my mind; and you, Albert?"

"I," replied the viscount,--"I saw Castaing executed, but I think I was
rather intoxicated that day, for I had quitted college the same morning,
and we had passed the previous night at a tavern."

"Besides, it is no reason because you have not seen an execution at
Paris, that you should not see one anywhere else; when you travel, it is
to see everything. Think what a figure you will make when you are asked,
'How do they execute at Rome?' and you reply, 'I do not know'! And,
besides, they say that the culprit is an infamous scoundrel, who killed
with a log of wood a worthy canon who had brought him up like his own
son. Diable, when a churchman is killed, it should be with a different
weapon than a log, especially wh