strove to rise,
but, ere he had time, the mace fell on his left temple. A dull and heavy
sound was heard, and the man dropped like an ox on his face, and then
turned over on his back. The executioner let fall his mace, drew his
knife, and with one stroke opened his throat, and mounting on his
stomach, stamped violently on it with his feet. At every stroke a jet of
blood sprang from the wound.

This time Franz could contain himself no longer, but sank, half
fainting, into a seat. Albert, with his eyes closed, was standing
grasping the window-curtains. The count was erect and triumphant, like
the Avenging Angel!

Chapter 36. The Carnival at Rome.

When Franz recovered his senses, he saw Albert drinking a glass of
water, of which, to judge from his pallor, he stood in great need;
and the count, who was assuming his masquerade costume. He glanced
mechanically towards the square--the scene was wholly changed; scaffold,
executioners, victims, all had disappeared; only the people remained,
full of noise and excitement. The bell of Monte Citorio, which only
sounds on the pope's decease and the opening of the Carnival, was
ringing a joyous peal. "Well," asked he of the count, "what has, then,
happened?"

"Nothing," replied the count; "only, as you see, the Carnival has
commenced. Make haste and dress yourself."

"In fact," said Franz, "this horrible scene has passed away like a
dream."

"It is but a dream, a nightmare, that has disturbed you."

"Yes, that I have suffered; but the culprit?"

"That is a dream also; only he has remained asleep, while you have
awakened; and who knows which of you is the most fortunate?"

"But Peppino--what has become of him?"

"Peppino is a lad of sense, who, unlike most men, who are happy in
proportion as they are noticed, was delighted to see that the general
attention was directed towards his companion. He profited by this
distraction to slip away among the crowd, without even thanking the
worthy priests who accompanied him. Decidedly man is an ungrateful and
egotistical animal. But dress yourself; see, M. de Morcerf sets you
the example." Albert was drawing on the satin pantaloon over his black
trousers and varnished boots. "Well, Albert," said Franz, "do you feel
much inclined to join the revels? Come, answer frankly."

"Ma foi, no," returned Albert. "But I am really glad to have seen such
a sight; and I understand what the count said--that when you have once
habituated yours