nd my destiny, if destiny is truly shaped by fatal
combinations, would have been very different. But the reader can judge
for himself.

Having, therefore, left Padua at the very instant marked by fatality, I
met at Oriago a cabriolet, drawn at full speed by two post-horses,
containing a very pretty woman and a man wearing a German uniform. Within
a few yards from me the vehicle was suddenly upset on the side of the
river, and the woman, falling over the officer, was in great danger of
rolling into the Brenta. I jumped out of my chaise without even stopping
my postillion, and rushing to the assistance of the lady I remedied with
a chaste hand the disorder caused to her toilet by her fall.

Her companion, who had picked himself up without any injury, hastened
towards us, and there was the lovely creature sitting on the ground
thoroughly amazed, and less confused from her fall than from the
indiscretion of her petticoats, which had exposed in all their nakedness
certain parts which an honest woman never shews to a stranger. In the
warmth of her thanks, which lasted until her postillion and mine had
righted the cabriolet, she often called me her saviour, her guardian
angel.

The vehicle being all right, the lady continued her journey towards
Padua, and I resumed mine towards Venice, which I reached just in time to
dress for the opera.

The next day I masked myself early to accompany the Bucentoro, which,
favoured by fine weather, was to be taken to the Lido for the great and
ridiculous ceremony. The whole affair is under the responsibility of the
admiral of the arsenal, who answers for the weather remaining fine, under
penalty of his head, for the slightest contrary wind might capsize the
ship and drown the Doge, with all the most serene noblemen, the
ambassadors, and the Pope's nuncio, who is the sponsor of that burlesque
wedding which the Venetians respect even to superstition. To crown the
misfortune of such an accident it would make the whole of Europe laugh,
and people would not fail to say that the Doge of Venice had gone at last
to consummate his marriage.

I had removed my mask, and was drinking some coffee under the
'procuraties' of St. Mark's Square, when a fine-looking female mask
struck me gallantly on the shoulder with her fan. As I did not know who
she was I did not take much notice of it, and after I had finished my
coffee I put on my mask and walked towards the Spiaggia del Sepulcro,
where M. de Bragad