ve him strength and agility. With a single bound he was on the stage,
had drawn his sword, and was charging upon the pretended Antonio. He
found, however, that he was held fast behind. An officer of the Papal
guard had stopped him, and said in a serious voice, "Recollect where
you are, Signor Pasquale; you are in Nicolo Musso's theatre. Without
intending it, you have today played a most ridiculous _role_. You will
not find either Antonio or Marianna here." The two persons whom Capuzzi
had taken for his niece and her lover now drew near, along with the
rest of the actors. The faces were all completely strange to him. His
rapier escaped from his trembling hand; he took a deep breath as if
awakening out of a bad dream; he grasped his brow with both hands; he
opened his eyes wide. The presentiment of what had happened suddenly
struck him, and he shouted, "Marianna!" in such a stentorian voice that
the walls rang again.

But she was beyond reach of his shouts. Antonio had taken advantage of
the opportunity whilst Pasquale, oblivious of all about him and even of
himself, was quarrelling with his double, to make his way to Marianna,
and back with her through the audience, and out at a side door, where a
carriage stood ready waiting; and away they went as fast as their
horses could gallop towards Florence.

"Marianna!" screamed the old man again, "Marianna! she is gone. She has
fled. That knave Antonio has stolen her from me. Away! after them! Have
pity on me, good people, and take torches and help me to look for my
little darling. Oh! you serpent!"

And he tried to make for the door. But the officer held him fast,
saying, "Do you mean that pretty young lady who sat beside you?
I believe I saw her slip out with a young man--I think Antonio
Scacciati--a long time ago, when you began your idle quarrel with one
of the actors who wore a mask like your face. You needn't make a
trouble of it; every inquiry shall at once be set on foot, and Marianna
shall be brought back to you as soon as she is found. But as for
yourself, Signor Pasquale, your behaviour here and your murderous
attempt upon the life of that actor compel me to arrest you."

Signor Pasquale, his face as pale as death, incapable of uttering a
single word or even a sound, was led away by the very same gendarmes
who were to have protected him against masked devils and spectres. Thus
it came to pass that on the selfsame night on which he had hoped to
celebrate his trium