ctions, stood behind my chair,
and seldom moved except to refill Ferrari's glass, and occasionally to
proffer some fresh vintage to the Duke di Marina. He, however, was an
abstemious and careful man, and followed the good example shown by the
wisest Italians, who never mix their wines. He remained faithful to the
first beverage he had selected--a specially fine Chianti, of which he
partook freely without its causing the slightest flush to appear on his
pale aristocratic features. Its warm and mellow flavor did but brighten
his eyes and loosen his tongue, inasmuch that he became almost as
elegant a talker as the Marchese Gualdro. This latter, who scarce had a
scudo to call his own, and who dined sumptuously every day at other
people's expense for the sake of the pleasure his company afforded, was
by this time entertaining every one near him by the most sparkling
stories and witty pleasantries.

The merriment increased as the various courses were served; shouts of
laughter frequently interrupted the loud buzz of conversation, mingling
with the clinking of glasses and clattering of porcelain. Every now and
then might be heard the smooth voice of Captain Freccia rolling out his
favorite oaths with the sonority and expression of a primo tenore;
sometimes the elegant French of the Marquis D'Avencourt, with his high,
sing-song Parisian accent, rang out above the voices of the others; and
again, the choice Tuscan of the poet Luziano Salustri rolled forth in
melodious cadence as though he were chanting lines from Dante or
Ariosto, instead of talking lightly on indifferent matters. I accepted
my share in the universal hilarity, though I principally divided my
conversation between Ferrari and the duke, paying to both, but
specially to Ferrari, that absolute attention which is the greatest
compliment a host can bestow on those whom he undertakes to entertain.

We had reached that stage of the banquet when the game was about to be
served--the invisible choir of boys' voices had just completed an
enchanting stornello with an accompaniment of mandolines--when a
stillness, strange and unaccountable, fell upon the company--a
pause--an ominous hush, as though some person supreme in authority had
suddenly entered the room and commanded "Silence!" No one seemed
disposed to speak or to move, the very footsteps of the waiters were
muffled in the velvet pile of the carpets--no sound was heard but the
measured plash of the fountain that playe