When Franz recovered his senses, he saw Albert drinking aglass of water, of which, to judge from his pallor, he stoodin great need; and the count, who was assuming hismasquerade costume. He glanced mechanically towards thesquare - the scene was wholly changed; scaffold,executioners, victims, all had disappeared; only the peopleremained, full of noise and excitement. The bell of MonteCitorio, which only sounds on the pope's decease and theopening 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, theCarnival his commenced. Make haste and dress yourself."

"In fact," said Franz, "this horrible scene has passed awaylike 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, whileyou have awakened; and who knows which of you is the mostfortunate?"

"But Peppino - what has become of him?"

"Peppino is a lad of sense, who, unlike most men, who arehappy in proportion as they are noticed, was delighted tosee that the general attention was directed towards hiscompanion. He profited by this distraction to slip awayamong the crowd, without even thanking the worthy priestswho accompanied him. Decidedly man is an ungrateful andegotistical animal. But dress yourself; see, M. de Morcerfsets you the example." Albert was drawing on the satinpantaloon over his black trousers and varnished boots."Well, Albert," said Franz, "do you feel much inclined tojoin the revels? Come, answer frankly."

"Ma foi, no," returned Albert. "But I am really glad to haveseen such a sight; and I understand what the count said - that when you have once habituated yourself to a similarspectacle, it is the only one that causes you any emotion."

"Without reflecting that this is the only moment in whichyou can study character," said the count; "on the steps ofthe scaffold death tears off the mask that has been wornthrough life, and the real visage is disclosed. It must beallowed that Andrea was not very handsome, the hideousscoundrel! Come, dress yourselves, gentlemen, dressyourselves." Franz felt it would be ridiculous not to followhis two companions' example. He assumed his costume, andfastened on the mask that scarcely equalled the pallor ofhis own face. Their toilet finished, they descended; thecarriage awaited them at the door, filled with sweetmeatsand bouquets. They fell into the line of carriages. It isdifficult to form an idea of the perfect change that hadtaken place. Instead of the spectacle of gloomy and silentdeath, the Piazza del Popolo presented a spectacle of gayand noisy mirth and revelry. A crowd of masks flowed in fromall sides, emerging from the doors, descending from thewindows. From every street and every corner drove carriagesfilled with clowns, harlequins, dominoes, mummers,pantomimists, Transteverins, knights, and peasants,screaming, fighting, gesticulating, throwing eggs filledwith flour, confetti, nosegays, attacking, with theirsarcasms and their missiles, friends and foes, companionsand strangers, indiscriminately, and no one took offence, ordid anything but laugh. Franz and Albert were like men who,to drive away a violent sorrow, have recourse to wine, andwho, as they drink and become intoxicated, feel a thick veildrawn between the past and the present. They saw, or rathercontinued to see, the image of what they had witnessed; butlittle by little the general vertigo seized them, and theyfelt themselves obliged to take part in the noise andconfusion. A handful of confetti that came from aneighboring carriage, and which, while it covered Morcerfand his two companions with dust, pricked his neck and thatportion of his face uncovered by his mask like a hundredpins, incited him to join in the general combat, in whichall the masks around him were engaged. He rose in his turn,and seizing handfuls of confetti and sweetmeats, with whichthe carriage was filled, cast them with all the force andskill he was master of.

The strife had fairly begun, and the recollection of whatthey had seen half an hour before was gradually effaced fromthe young men's minds, so much were they occupied by the gayand glittering procession they now beheld. As for the Countof Monte Cristo, he had never for an instant shown anyappearance of having been moved. Imagine the large andsplendid Corso, bordered from one end to the other withlofty palaces, with their balconies hung with carpets, andtheir windows with flags. At these balconies are threehundred thousand spectators - Romans, Italians, strangersfrom all parts of the world, the united aristocracy ofbirth, wealth, and genius. Lovely women, yielding to theinfluence of the scene, bend over their balconies, or leanfrom their windows, and shower down confetti, which arereturned by bouquets; the air seems darkened with thefalling confetti and flying flowers. In the streets thelively crowd is dressed in the most fantastic costumes - gigantic cabbages walk gravely about, buffaloes' heads belowfrom men's shoulders, dogs walk on their hind legs; in themidst of all this a mask is lifted, and, as in Callot'sTemptation of St. Anthony, a lovely face is exhibited, whichwe would fain follow, but from which we are separated bytroops of fiends. This will give a faint idea of theCarnival at Rome. At the second turn the Count stopped thecarriage, and requested permission to withdraw, leaving thevehicle at their disposal. Franz looked up - they wereopposite the Rospoli Palace. At the centre window, the onehung with white damask with a red cross, was a blue domino,beneath which Franz's imagination easily pictured thebeautiful Greek of the Argentina. "Gentlemen," said thecount, springing out, "when you are tired of being actors,and wish to become spectators of this scene, you know youhave places at my windows. In the meantime, dispose of mycoachman, my carriage, and my servants." We have forgottento mention, that the count's coachman was attired in abear-skin, exactly resembling Odry's in "The Bear and thePasha;" and the two footmen behind were dressed up as greenmonkeys, with spring masks, with which they made grimaces atevery one who passed. Franz thanked the count for hisattention. As for Albert, he was busily occupied throwingbouquets at a carriage full of Roman peasants that waspassing near him. Unfortunately for him, the line ofcarriages moved on again, and while he descended the Piazzadel Popolo, the other ascended towards the Palazzo diVenezia. "Ah, my dear fellow," said he to Franz; "you didnot 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 pastdisappointments."

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

But, in spite of Albert's hope, the day passed unmarked byany incident, excepting two or three encounters with thecarriage full of Roman peasants. At one of these encounters,accidentally or purposely, Albert's mask fell off. Heinstantly rose and cast the remainder of the bouquets intothe carriage. Doubtless one of the charming females Alberthad detected beneath their coquettish disguise was touchedby his gallantry; for, as the carriage of the two friendspassed 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 hisbutton-hole, and the carriage went triumphantly on.

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

"Laugh if you please - I really think so. So I will notabandon this bouquet."

"Pardieu," returned Franz, laughing, "in token of youringratitude." The jest, however, soon appeared to becomeearnest; for when Albert and Franz again encountered thecarriage with the contadini, the one who had thrown theviolets to Albert, clapped her hands when she beheld them inhis button-hole. "Bravo, bravo," said Franz; "things gowonderfully. Shall I leave you? Perhaps you would preferbeing alone?"

"No," replied he; "I will not be caught like a fool at afirst disclosure by a rendezvous under the clock, as theysay at the opera-balls. If the fair peasant wishes to carrymatters any further, we shall find her, or rather, she willfind 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 andprudent as Ulysses, and your fair Circe must be very skilfulor very powerful if she succeed in changing you into a beastof any kind." Albert was right; the fair unknown hadresolved, doubtless, to carry the intrigue no farther; foralthough the young men made several more turns, they did notagain see the calash, which had turned up one of theneighboring streets. Then they returned to the RospoliPalace; but the count and the blue domino had alsodisappeared; the two windows, hung with yellow damask, werestill occupied by the persons whom the count had invited. Atthis moment the same bell that had proclaimed the beginningof the mascherata sounded the retreat. The file on the Corsobroke the line, and in a second all the carriages haddisappeared. Franz and Albert were opposite the Via delleMaratte; the coachman, without saying a word, drove up it,passed along the Piazza di Spagni and the Rospoli Palace andstopped at the door of the hotel. Signor Pastrini came tothe door to receive his guests. Franz hastened to inquireafter the count, and to express regret that he had notreturned in sufficient time; but Pastrini reassured him bysaying that the Count of Monte Cristo had ordered a secondcarriage for himself, and that it had gone at four o'clockto fetch him from the Rospoli Palace. The count had,moreover, charged him to offer the two friends the key ofhis box at the Argentina. Franz questioned Albert as to hisintentions; but Albert had great projects to put intoexecution before going to the theatre; and instead of makingany answer, he inquired if Signor Pastrini could procure hima tailor. "A tailor," said the host; "and for what?"

"To make us between now and to-morrow two Roman peasantcostumes," returned Albert. The host shook his head. "Tomake you two costumes between now and to-morrow? I ask yourexcellencies' pardon, but this is quite a French demand; forthe next week you will not find a single tailor who wouldconsent to sew six buttons on a waistcoat if you paid him acrown a piece for each button."

"Then I must give up the idea?"

"No; we have them ready-made. Leave all to me; andto-morrow, when you awake, you shall find a collection ofcostumes with which you will be satisfied."

"My dear Albert," said Franz, "leave all to our host; he hasalready proved himself full of resources; let us dinequietly, and afterwards go and see `The Algerian Captive.'"

"Agreed," returned Albert; "but remember, Signor Pastrini,that both my friend and myself attach the greatestimportance to having to-morrow the costumes we have askedfor." The host again assured them they might rely on him,and that their wishes should be attended to; upon whichFranz and Albert mounted to their apartments, and proceededto disencumber themselves of their costumes. Albert, as hetook off his dress, carefully preserved the bunch ofviolets; it was his token reserved for the morrow. The twofriends sat down to table; but they could not refrain fromremarking the difference between the Count of Monte Cristo'stable and that of Signor Pastrini. Truth compelled Franz, inspite of the dislike he seemed to have taken to the count,to confess that the advantage was not on Pastrini's side.During dessert, the servant inquired at what time theywished for the carriage. Albert and Franz looked at eachother, fearing really to abuse the count's kindness. Theservant understood them. "His excellency the Count of MonteCristo had," he said, "given positive orders that thecarriage was to remain at their lordships' orders all day,and they could therefore dispose of it without fear ofindiscretion."

They resolved to profit by the count's courtesy, and orderedthe horses to be harnessed, while they substituted eveningdress for that which they had on, and which was somewhat theworse for the numerous combats they had sustained. Thisprecaution taken, they went to the theatre, and installedthemselves in the count's box. During the first act, theCountess G - - entered. Her first look was at the box whereshe had seen the count the previous evening, so that sheperceived Franz and Albert in the place of the very personconcerning whom she had expressed so strange an opinion toFranz. Her opera-glass was so fixedly directed towards them,that Franz saw it would be cruel not to satisfy hercuriosity; and, availing himself of one of the privileges ofthe spectators of the Italian theatres, who use their boxesto hold receptions, the two friends went to pay theirrespects to the countess. Scarcely had they entered, whenshe motioned to Franz to assume the seat of honor. Albert,in his turn, sat behind.

"Well," said she, hardly giving Franz time to sit down, "itseems you have nothing better to do than to make theacquaintance of this new Lord Ruthven, and you are alreadythe best friends in the world."

"Without being so far advanced as that, my dear countess,"returned Franz, "I cannot deny that we have abused his goodnature all day."

"All day?"

"Yes; this morning we breakfasted with him; we rode in hiscarriage all day, and now we have taken possession of hisbox."

"You know him, then?"

"Yes, and no."

"How so?"

"It is a long story."

'Tell it to me."

"It would frighten you too much."

"So much the more reason."

"At least wait until the story has a conclusion."

"Very well; I prefer complete histories; but tell me how youmade his acquaintance? Did any one introduce you to him?"

"No; it was he who introduced himself to us."

"When?"

"Last night, after we left you."

"Through what medium?"

"The very prosaic one of our landlord."

"He is staying, then, at the Hotel de Londres with you?"

"Not only in the same hotel, but on the same floor."

"What is his name - for, of course, you know?"

"The Count of Monte Cristo."

"That is not a family name?"

"No, it is the name of the island he has purchased."

"And he is a count?"

"A Tuscan count."

"Well, we must put up with that," said the countess, who washerself from one of the oldest Venetian families. "What sortof a man is he?"

"Ask the Vicomte de Morcerf."

"You hear, M. de Morcerf, I am referred to you," said thecountess.

"We should be very hard to please, madam," returned Albert,"did we not think him delightful. A friend of ten years'standing could not have done more for us, or with a moreperfect courtesy."

"Come," observed the countess, smiling, "I see my vampire isonly some millionaire, who has taken the appearance of Larain order to avoid being confounded with M. de Rothschild;and you have seen her?"

"Her?"

"The beautiful Greek of yesterday."

"No; we heard, I think, the sound of her guzla, but sheremained perfectly invisible."

"When you say invisible," interrupted Albert, "it is only tokeep up the mystery; for whom do you take the blue domino atthe window with the white curtains?"

"Where was this window with white hangings?" asked thecountess.

"At the Rospoli Palace."

"The count had three windows at the Rospoli Palace?"

"Yes. Did you pass through the Corso?"

"Yes."

"Well, did you notice two windows hung with yellow damask,and one with white damask with a red cross? Those were thecount's windows?"

"Why, he must be a nabob. Do you know what those threewindows were worth?"

"Two or three hundred Roman crowns?"

"Two or three thousand."

"The deuce."

"Does his island produce him such a revenue?"

"It does not bring him a baiocco."

"Then why did he purchase it?"

"For a whim."

"He is an original, then?"

"In reality," observed Albert, "he seemed to me somewhateccentric; were he at Paris, and a frequenter of thetheatres, I should say he was a poor devil literally mad.This morning he made two or three exits worthy of Didier orAnthony." At this moment a fresh visitor entered, and,according to custom, Franz gave up his seat to him. Thiscircumstance had, moreover, the effect of changing theconversation; an hour afterwards the two friends returned totheir hotel. Signor Pastrini had already set about procuringtheir disguises for the morrow; and he assured them thatthey would be perfectly satisfied. The next morning, at nineo'clock, he entered Franz's room, followed by a tailor, whohad eight or ten Roman peasant costumes on his arm; theyselected two exactly alike, and charged the tailor to sew oneach of their hats about twenty yards of ribbon, and toprocure them two of the long silk sashes of different colorswith which the lower orders decorate themselves onfete-days. Albert was impatient to see how he looked in hisnew dress - a jacket and breeches of blue velvet, silkstockings with clocks, shoes with buckles, and a silkwaistcoat. This picturesque attire set him off to greatadvantage; and when he had bound the scarf around his waist,and when his hat, placed coquettishly on one side, let fallon his shoulder a stream of ribbons, Franz was forced toconfess that costume has much to do with the physicalsuperiority we accord to certain nations. The Turks used tobe so picturesque with their long and flowing robes, but arethey not now hideous with their blue frocks buttoned up tothe chin, and their red caps, which make them look like abottle of wine with a red seal? Franz complimented Albert,who looked at himself in the glass with an unequivocal smileof satisfaction. They were thus engaged when the Count ofMonte Cristo entered.

"Gentlemen," said he, "although a companion is agreeable,perfect freedom is sometimes still more agreeable. I come tosay that to-day, and for the remainder of the Carnival, Ileave the carriage entirely at your disposal. The host willtell you I have three or four more, so that you will notinconvenience me in any way. Make use of it, I pray you, foryour pleasure or your business."

The young men wished to decline, but they could find no goodreason for refusing an offer which was so agreeable to them.The Count of Monte Cristo remained a quarter of an hour withthem, conversing on all subjects with the greatest ease. Hewas, as we have already said, perfectly well acquainted withthe literature of all countries. A glance at the walls ofhis salon proved to Franz and Albert that he was aconnoisseur of pictures. A few words he let fall showed themthat he was no stranger to the sciences, and he seemed muchoccupied with chemistry. The two friends did not venture toreturn the count the breakfast he had given them; it wouldhave been too absurd to offer him in exchange for hisexcellent table the very inferior one of Signor Pastrini.They told him so frankly, and he received their excuses withthe air of a man who appreciated their delicacy. Albert wascharmed with the count's manners, and he was only preventedfrom recognizing him for a perfect gentleman by reason ofhis varied knowledge. The permission to do what he likedwith the carriage pleased him above all, for the fairpeasants had appeared in a most elegant carriage thepreceding evening, and Albert was not sorry to be upon anequal footing with them. At half-past one they descended,the coachman and footman had put on their livery over theirdisguises, which gave them a more ridiculous appearance thanever, and which gained them the applause of Franz andAlbert. Albert had fastened the faded bunch of violets tohis button-hole. At the first sound of the bell theyhastened into the Corso by the Via Vittoria. At the secondturn, a bunch of fresh violets, thrown from a carriagefilled with harlequins, indicated to Albert that, likehimself and his friend, the peasants had changed theircostume, also; and whether it was the result of chance, orwhether a similar feeling had possessed them both, while hehad changed his costume they had assumed his.

Albert placed the fresh bouquet in his button-hole, but hekept the faded one in his hand; and when he again met thecalash, he raised it to his lips, an action which seemedgreatly to amuse not only the fair lady who had thrown it,but her joyous companions also. The day was as gay as thepreceding one, perhaps even more animated and noisy; thecount appeared for an instant at his window. but when theyagain passed he had disappeared. It is almost needless tosay that the flirtation between Albert and the fair peasantcontinued all day. In the evening, on his return, Franzfound a letter from the embassy, informing him that he wouldhave the honor of being received by his holiness the nextday. At each previous visit he had made to Rome, he hadsolicited and obtained the same favor; and incited as muchby a religious feeling as by gratitude, he was unwilling toquit the capital of the Christian world without laying hisrespectful homage at the feet of one of St. Peter'ssuccessors who has set the rare example of all the virtues.He did not then think of the Carnival, for in spite of hiscondescension and touching kindness, one cannot inclineone's self without awe before the venerable and noble oldman called Gregory XVI. On his return from the Vatican,Franz carefully avoided the Corso; he brought away with hima treasure of pious thoughts, to which the mad gayety of themaskers would have been profanation. At ten minutes pastfive Albert entered overjoyed. The harlequin had reassumedher peasant's costume, and as she passed she raised hermask. She was charming. Franz congratulated Albert, whoreceived his congratulations with the air of a man consciousthat they are merited. He had recognized by certainunmistakable signs, that his fair incognita belonged to thearistocracy. He had made up his mind to write to her thenext day. Franz remarked, while he gave these details, thatAlbert seemed to have something to ask of him, but that hewas unwilling to ask it. He insisted upon it, declaringbeforehand that he was willing to make any sacrifice theother wished. Albert let himself be pressed just as long asfriendship required, and then avowed to Franz that he woulddo him a great favor by allowing him to occupy the carriagealone the next day. Albert attributed to Franz's absence theextreme kindness of the fair peasant in raising her mask.Franz was not sufficiently egotistical to stop Albert in themiddle of an adventure that promised to prove so agreeableto his curiosity and so flattering to his vanity. He feltassured that the perfect indiscretion of his friend wouldduly inform him of all that happened; and as, during threeyears that he had travelled all over Italy, a similar pieceof good fortune had never fallen to his share, Franz was byno means sorry to learn how to act on such an occasion. Hetherefore promised Albert that he would content himself themorrow with witnessing the Carnival from the windows of theRospoli Palace.

The next morning he saw Albert pass and repass, holding anenormous bouquet, which he doubtless meant to make thebearer of his amorous epistle. This belief was changed intocertainty when Franz saw the bouquet (conspicuous by acircle of white camellias) in the hand of a charmingharlequin dressed in rose-colored satin. The evening was nolonger joy, but delirium. Albert nothing doubted but thatthe fair unknown would reply in the same manner. Franzanticipated his wishes by saying that the noise fatiguedhim, and that he should pass the next day in writing andlooking over his journal. Albert was not deceived, for thenext evening Franz saw him enter triumphantly shaking afolded paper which he held by one corner. "Well," said he,"was I mistaken?"

"She has answered you!" cried Franz.

"Read." This word was pronounced in a manner impossible todescribe. Franz took the letter, and read: -

Tuesday evening, at seven o'clock, descend from yourcarriage opposite the Via dei Pontefici, and follow theRoman peasant who snatches your torch from you. When youarrive at the first step of the church of San Giacomo, besure to fasten a knot of rose-colored ribbons to theshoulder of your harlequin costume, in order that you may berecognized. Until then you will not see me.

Constancy and Discretion.

"Well," asked he, when Franz had finished, "what do youthink of that?"

"I think that the adventure is assuming a very agreeableappearance."

"I think so, also," replied Albert; "and I very much fearyou will go alone to the Duke of Bracciano's ball." Franzand Albert had received that morning an invitation from thecelebrated Roman banker. "Take care, Albert," said Franz."All the nobility of Rome will be present, and if your fairincognita belong to the higher class of society, she must gothere."

"Whether she goes there or not, my opinion is still thesame," returned Albert. "You have read the letter?"

"Yes."

"You know how imperfectly the women of the mezzo cito areeducated in Italy?" (This is the name of the lower class.)

"Yes."

"Well, read the letter again. Look at the writing, and findif you can, any blemish in the language or orthography."(The writing was, in reality, charming, and the orthographyirreproachable.) "You are born to good fortune," said Franz,as he returned the letter.

"Laugh as much as you will," replied Albert, "I am in love."

"You alarm me," cried Franz. "I see that I shall not only goalone to the Duke of Bracciano's, but also return toFlorence alone."

"If my unknown be as amiable as she is beautiful," saidAlbert, "I shall fix myself at Rome for six weeks, at least.I adore Rome, and I have always had a great taste forarchaeology."

"Come, two or three more such adventures, and I do notdespair of seeing you a member of the Academy." DoubtlessAlbert was about to discuss seriously his right to theacademic chair when they were informed that dinner wasready. Albert's love had not taken away his appetite. Hehastened with Franz to seat himself, free to recommence thediscussion after dinner. After dinner, the Count of MonteCristo was announced. They had not seen him for two days.Signor Pastrini informed them that business had called himto Civita Vecchia. He had started the previous evening, andhad only returned an hour since. He was charming. Whether hekept a watch over himself, or whether by accident he did notsound the acrimonious chords that in other circumstances hadbeen touched, he was to-night like everybody else. The manwas an enigma to Franz. The count must feel sure that Franzrecognized him; and yet he had not let fall a single wordindicating any previous acquaintance between them. On hisside, however great Franz's desire was to allude to theirformer interview, the fear of being disagreeable to the manwho had loaded him and his friend with kindness preventedhim from mentioning it. The count had learned that the twofriends had sent to secure a box at the Argentina Theatre,and were told they were all let. In consequence, he broughtthem the key of his own - at least such was the apparentmotive of his visit. Franz and Albert made some difficulty,alleging their fear of depriving him of it; but the countreplied that, as he was going to the Palli Theatre, the boxat the Argentina Theatre would he lost if they did notprofit by it. This assurance determined the two friends toaccept it.

Franz had by degrees become accustomed to the count'spallor, which had so forcibly struck him at their firstmeeting. He could not refrain from admiring the severebeauty of his features, the only defect, or rather theprincipal quality of which was the pallor. Truly, a Byronichero! Franz could not, we will not say see him, but eventhink of him without imagining his stern head upon Manfred'sshoulders, or beneath Lara's helmet. His forehead was markedwith the line that indicates the constant presence of bitterthoughts; he had the fiery eyes that seem to penetrate tothe very soul, and the haughty and disdainful upper lip thatgives to the words it utters a peculiar character thatimpresses them on the minds of those to whom they areaddressed. The count was no longer young. He was at leastforty; and yet it was easy to understand that he was formedto rule the young men with whom he associated at present.And, to complete his resemblance with the fantastic heroesof the English poet, the count seemed to have the power offascination. Albert was constantly expatiating on their goodfortune in meeting such a man. Franz was less enthusiastic;but the count exercised over him also the ascendency astrong mind always acquires over a mind less domineering. Hethought several times of the project the count had ofvisiting Paris; and he had no doubt but that, with hiseccentric character, his characteristic face, and hiscolossal fortune, he would produce a great effect there. Andyet he did not wish to be at Paris when the count was there.The evening passed as evenings mostly pass at Italiantheatres; that is, not in listening to the music, but inpaying visits and conversing. The Countess G - - wished torevive the subject of the count, but Franz announced he hadsomething far newer to tell her, and, in spite of Albert'sdemonstrations of false modesty, he informed the countess ofthe great event which had preoccupied them for the lastthree days. As similar intrigues are not uncommon in Italy,if we may credit travellers, the comtess did not manifestthe least incredulity, but congratulated Albert on hissuccess. They promised, upon separating, to meet at the Dukeof Bracciano's ball, to which all Rome was invited. Theheroine of the bouquet kept her word; she gave Albert nosign of her existence the morrow or the day after.

At length Tuesday came, the last and most tumultuous day ofthe Carnival. On Tuesday, the theatres open at ten o'clockin the morning, as Lent begins after eight at night. OnTuesday, all those who through want of money, time, orenthusiasm, have not been to see the Carnival before, minglein the gayety, and contribute to the noise and excitement.From two o'clock till five Franz and Albert followed in thefete, exchanging handfuls of confetti with the othercarriages and the pedestrians, who crowded amongst thehorses' feet and the carriage wheels without a singleaccident, a single dispute, or a single fight. The fetes areveritable pleasure days to the Italians. The author of thishistory, who has resided five or six years in Italy, doesnot recollect to have ever seen a ceremony interrupted byone of those events so common in other countries. Albert wastriumphant in his harlequin costume. A knot of rose-coloredribbons fell from his shoulder almost to the ground. Inorder that there might be no confusion, Franz wore hispeasant's costume.

As the day advanced, the tumult became greater. There wasnot on the pavement, in the carriages, at the windows, asingle tongue that was silent, a single arm that did notmove. It was a human storm, made up of a thunder of cries,and a hail of sweetmeats, flowers, eggs, oranges, andnosegays. At three o'clock the sound of fireworks, let offon the Piazza del Popolo and the Piazza di Venezia (heardwith difficulty amid the din and confusion) announced thatthe races were about to begin. The races, like the moccoli,are one of the episodes peculiar to the last days of theCarnival. At the sound of the fireworks the carriagesinstantly broke ranks, and retired by the adjacent streets.All these evolutions are executed with an inconceivableaddress and marvellous rapidity, without the policeinterfering in the matter. The pedestrians ranged themselvesagainst the walls; then the trampling of horses and theclashing of steel were heard. A detachment of carbineers,fifteen abreast, galloped up the Corso in order to clear itfor the barberi. When the detachment arrived at the Piazzadi Venezia, a second volley of fireworks was discharged, toannounce that the street was clear. Almost instantly, in themidst of a tremendous and general outcry, seven or eighthorses, excited by the shouts of three hundred thousandspectators, passed by like lightning. Then the Castle ofSaint Angelo fired three cannon to indicate that numberthree had won. Immediately, without any other signal, thecarriages moved on, flowing on towards the Corso, down allthe streets, like torrents pent up for a while, which againflow into the parent river; and the immense stream againcontinued its course between its two granite banks.

A new source of noise and movement was added to the crowd.The sellers of moccoletti entered on the scene. The moccoli,or moccoletti, are candles which vary in size from thepascal taper to the rushlight, and which give to each actorin the great final scene of the Carnival two very seriousproblems to grapple with, - first, how to keep his ownmoccoletto alight; and secondly, how to extinguish themoccoletti of others. The moccoletto is like life: man hasfound but one means of transmitting it, and that one comesfrom God. But he has discovered a thousand means of takingit away, and the devil has somewhat aided him. Themoccoletto is kindled by approaching it to a light. But whocan describe the thousand means of extinguishing themoccoletto? - the gigantic bellows, the monstrousextinguishers, the superhuman fans. Every one hastened topurchase moccoletti - Franz and Albert among the rest.

The night was rapidly approaching; and already, at the cryof "Moccoletti!" repeated by the shrill voices of a thousandvendors, two or three stars began to burn among the crowd.It was a signal. At the end of ten minutes fifty thousandlights glittered, descending from the Palazzo di Venezia tothe Piazza del Popolo, and mounting from the Piazzo delPopolo to the Palazzo di Venezia. It seemed like the fete ofjack-o'-lanterns. It is impossible to form any idea of itwithout having seen it. Suppose that all the stars haddescended from the sky and mingled in a wild dance on theface of the earth; the whole accompanied by cries that werenever heard in any other part of the world. The facchinofollows the prince, the Transteverin the citizen, every oneblowing, extinguishing, relighting. Had old AEolus appearedat this moment, he would have been proclaimed king of themoccoli, and Aquilo the heir-presumptive to the throne. Thisbattle of folly and flame continued for two hours; the Corsowas light as day; the features of the spectators on thethird and fourth stories were visible. Every five minutesAlbert took out his watch; at length it pointed to seven.The two friends were in the Via dei Pontefici. Albert sprangout, bearing his moccoletto in his hand. Two or three masksstrove to knock his moccoletto out of his hand; but Albert,a first-rate pugilist, sent them rolling in the street, oneafter the other, and continued his course towards the churchof San Giacomo. The steps were crowded with masks, whostrove to snatch each other's torches. Franz followed Albertwith his eyes, and saw him mount the first step. Instantly amask, wearing the well-known costume of a peasant woman,snatched his moccoletto from him without his offering anyresistance. Franz was too far off to hear what they said;but, without doubt, nothing hostile passed, for he sawAlbert disappear arm-in-arm with the peasant girl. Hewatched them pass through the crowd for some time, but atlength he lost sight of them in the Via Macello. Suddenlythe bell that gives the signal for the end of the carnivalsounded, and at the same instant all the moccoletti wereextinguished as if by enchantment. It seemed as though oneimmense blast of the wind had extinguished every one. Franzfound himself in utter darkness. No sound was audible savethat of the carriages that were carrying the maskers home;nothing was visible save a few lights that burnt behind thewindows. The Carnival was over.