did not see?"

"What?"

"There,--that calash filled with Roman peasants."

"No."

"Well, I am convinced they are all charming women."

"How unfortunate that you were masked, Albert," said Franz; "here was an
opportunity of making up for past disappointments."

"Oh," replied he, half laughing, half serious; "I hope the Carnival will
not pass without some amends in one shape or the other."

But, in spite of Albert's hope, the day passed unmarked by any incident,
excepting two or three encounters with the carriage full of Roman
peasants. At one of these encounters, accidentally or purposely,
Albert's mask fell off. He instantly rose and cast the remainder of the
bouquets into the carriage. Doubtless one of the charming females
Albert had detected beneath their coquettish disguise was touched by his
gallantry; for, as the carriage of the two friends passed her, she threw
a bunch of violets. Albert seized it, and as Franz had no reason to
suppose it was meant for him, he suffered Albert to retain it. Albert
placed it in his button-hole, and the carriage went triumphantly on.

"Well," said Franz to him; "there is the beginning of an adventure."

"Laugh if you please--I really think so. So I will not abandon this
bouquet."

"Pardieu," returned Franz, laughing, "in token of your ingratitude."
The jest, however, soon appeared to become earnest; for when Albert and
Franz again encountered the carriage with the contadini, the one who had
thrown the violets to Albert, clapped her hands when she beheld them
in his button-hole. "Bravo, bravo," said Franz; "things go wonderfully.
Shall I leave you? Perhaps you would prefer being alone?"

"No," replied he; "I will not be caught like a fool at a first
disclosure by a rendezvous under the clock, as they say at the
opera-balls. If the fair peasant wishes to carry matters any further,
we shall find her, or rather, she will find us to-morrow; then she will
give me some sign or other, and I shall know what I have to do."

"On my word," said Franz, "you are wise as Nestor and prudent as
Ulysses, and your fair Circe must be very skilful or very powerful if
she succeed in changing you into a beast of any kind." Albert was right;
the fair unknown had resolved, doubtless, to carry the intrigue no
farther; for although the young men made several more turns, they did
not again see the calash, which had turned up one of the neighboring
streets. Then they returned to the Rospoli Palace;