left him at the moment they were about to extinguish
the moccoli, and that he had lost sight of him in the Via Macello. "Then
he has not returned?" said the duke.

"I waited for him until this hour," replied Franz.

"And do you know whither he went?"

"No, not precisely; however, I think it was something very like a
rendezvous."

"Diavolo!" said the duke, "this is a bad day, or rather a bad night,
to be out late; is it not, countess!" These words were addressed to
the Countess G----, who had just arrived, and was leaning on the arm of
Signor Torlonia, the duke's brother.

"I think, on the contrary, that it is a charming night," replied the
countess, "and those who are here will complain of but one thing--its
too rapid flight."

"I am not speaking," said the duke with a smile, "of the persons who are
here; the men run no other danger than that of falling in love with
you, and the women of falling ill of jealousy at seeing you so lovely; I
meant persons who were out in the streets of Rome."

"Ah," asked the countess, "who is out in the streets of Rome at this
hour, unless it be to go to a ball?"

"Our friend, Albert de Morcerf, countess, whom I left in pursuit of his
unknown about seven o'clock this evening," said Franz, "and whom I have
not seen since."

"And don't you know where he is?"

"Not at all."

"Is he armed?"

"He is in masquerade."

"You should not have allowed him to go," said the duke to Franz; "you,
who know Rome better than he does."

"You might as well have tried to stop number three of the barberi, who
gained the prize in the race to-day," replied Franz; "and then moreover,
what could happen to him?"

"Who can tell? The night is gloomy, and the Tiber is very near the Via
Macello." Franz felt a shudder run through his veins at observing that
the feeling of the duke and the countess was so much in unison with his
own personal disquietude. "I informed them at the hotel that I had the
honor of passing the night here, duke," said Franz, "and desired them to
come and inform me of his return."

"Ah," replied the duke, "here I think, is one of my servants who is
seeking you."

The duke was not mistaken; when he saw Franz, the servant came up to
him. "Your excellency," he said, "the master of the Hotel de Londres has
sent to let you know that a man is waiting for you with a letter from
the Viscount of Morcerf."

"A letter from the viscount!" exclaimed Franz.

"Yes."

"And who is the m