of the evening was going on, and
no doubt thought I showed but a poor taste in requiring to be driven
away, even for a short distance, out of Naples on such a night of
feasting and folly. He stopped at last; the castellated turrets of the
villa I had named were faintly visible among the trees; he jumped down
from his box and came to us.

"Shall I drive up to the house?" he asked, looking as though he would
rather be spared this trouble.

"No," I answered, indifferently, "you need not. The distance is short,
we will walk."

And I stepped out into the road and paid him his money.

"You seem anxious to get back to the city, my friend," I said, half
jocosely.

"Si, davvero!" he replied, with decision, "I hope to get many a good
fare from the Count Oliva's marriage-ball to-night."

"Ah! he is a rich fellow, that count," I said, as I assisted my wife to
alight, keeping her cloak well muffled round her so that this common
fellow should not perceive the glitter of her costly costume; "I wish I
were he!"

The man grinned and nodded emphatically. He had no suspicion of my
identity. He took me, in all probability, for one of those "gay
gallants" so common in Naples, who, on finding at some public
entertainment a "dama" to their taste, hurry her off, carefully cloaked
and hooded, to a mysterious nook known only to themselves, where they
can complete the romance of the evening entirely to their own
satisfaction. Bidding me a lively buona notte, he sprung on his box
again, jerked his horse's head violently round with a volley of oaths,
and drove away at a rattling pace. Nina, standing on the road beside
me, looked after him with a bewildered air.

"Could he not have waited to take us back?" she asked.

"No," I answered, brusquely; "we shall return by a different route.
Come."

And passing my arm round her, I led her onward. She shivered slightly,
and there was a sound of querulous complaint in her voice as she said:

"Have we to go much further, Cesare?"

"Three minutes, walk will bring us to our destination," I replied,
briefly, adding in a softer tone, "Are you cold?"

"A little," and she gathered her sables more closely about her and
pressed nearer to my side. The capricious moon here suddenly leaped
forth like the pale ghost of a frenzied dancer, standing tiptoe on the
edge of a precipitous chasm of black clouds. Her rays, pallidly green
and cold, fell full on the dreary stretch of land before us, touching
up w