y enchantment. It seemed as though one immense blast
of the wind had extinguished every one. Franz found himself in utter
darkness. No sound was audible save that of the carriages that were
carrying the maskers home; nothing was visible save a few lights that
burnt behind the windows. The Carnival was over.

Chapter 37. The Catacombs of Saint Sebastian.

In his whole life, perhaps, Franz had never before experienced so sudden
an impression, so rapid a transition from gayety to sadness, as in this
moment. It seemed as though Rome, under the magic breath of some demon
of the night, had suddenly changed into a vast tomb. By a chance, which
added yet more to the intensity of the darkness, the moon, which was on
the wane, did not rise until eleven o'clock, and the streets which the
young man traversed were plunged in the deepest obscurity. The distance
was short, and at the end of ten minutes his carriage, or rather the
count's, stopped before the Hotel de Londres. Dinner was waiting, but
as Albert had told him that he should not return so soon, Franz sat down
without him. Signor Pastrini, who had been accustomed to see them dine
together, inquired into the cause of his absence, but Franz merely
replied that Albert had received on the previous evening an invitation
which he had accepted. The sudden extinction of the moccoletti, the
darkness which had replaced the light, and the silence which had
succeeded the turmoil, had left in Franz's mind a certain depression
which was not free from uneasiness. He therefore dined very silently, in
spite of the officious attention of his host, who presented himself two
or three times to inquire if he wanted anything.

Franz resolved to wait for Albert as late as possible. He ordered the
carriage, therefore, for eleven o'clock, desiring Signor Pastrini to
inform him the moment that Albert returned to the hotel. At eleven
o'clock Albert had not come back. Franz dressed himself, and went out,
telling his host that he was going to pass the night at the Duke of
Bracciano's. The house of the Duke of Bracciano is one of the most
delightful in Rome, the duchess, one of the last heiresses of the
Colonnas, does its honors with the most consummate grace, and thus their
fetes have a European celebrity. Franz and Albert had brought to Rome
letters of introduction to them, and their first question on his arrival
was to inquire the whereabouts of his travelling companion. Franz
replied that he had