Yellow Mask!

Fabio started up, and his friend followed his example. Again the
gleaming black eyes rested steadily on the young nobleman's face, and
again their look chilled him to the heart.

"Yellow Lady, do you know my friend?" exclaimed D'Arbino, with mock
solemnity.

There was no answer. The fatal eyes never moved from Fabio's face.

"Yellow Lady," continued the other, "listen to the music. Will you dance
with me?"

The eyes looked away, and the figure glided slowly from the room.

"My dear count," said D'Arbino, "that woman seems to have quite an
effect on you. I declare she has left you paler than ever. Come into
the supper-room with me, and have some wine; you really look as if you
wanted it."

They went at once to the large refreshment-room. Nearly all the guests
had by this time begun to dance again. They had the whole apartment,
therefore, almost entirely to themselves.

Among the decorations of the room, which were not strictly in accordance
with genuine Arcadian simplicity, was a large looking-glass, placed
over a well-furnished sideboard. D'Arbino led Fabio in this direction,
exchanging greetings as he advanced with a gentleman who stood near the
glass looking into it, and carelessly fanning himself with his mask.

"My dear friend!" cried D'Arbino, "you are the very man to lead us
straight to the best bottle of wine in the palace. Count Fabio, let me
present to you my intimate and good friend, the Cavaliere Finello, with
whose family I know you are well acquainted. Finello, the count is a
little out of spirits, and I have prescribed a good dose of wine. I see
a whole row of bottles at your side, and I leave it to you to apply the
remedy. Glasses there! three glasses, my lovely shepherdess with the
black eyes--the three largest you have got."

The glasses were brought; the Cavaliere Finello chose a particular
bottle, and filled them. All three gentlemen turned round to the
sideboard to use it as a table, and thus necessarily faced the
looking-glass.

"Now let us drink the toast of toasts," said D'Arbino. "Finello, Count
Fabio--the ladies of Pisa!"

Fabio raised the wine to his lips, and was on the point of drinking it,
when he saw reflected in the glass the figure of the Yellow Mask. The
glittering eyes were again fixed on him, and the yellow-hooded head
bowed slowly, as if in acknowledgment of the toast he was about to
drink. For the third time the strange chill seized him, and he set down