count on you to get
me out of the country, for I can no longer continue in a station for
which I was not intended, since I can neither sing nor act."

She gave me her address, and I left her delighted with my discovery.
After having passed half an hour at the counter, eating and drinking of
the best, I returned to the crowd and saw my fair stocking-seller talking
to Count Volpati. He had seen her with me, and hastened to enquire my
name of her. However, she was faithful to our mutual promise, and told
him I was her husband, though the Venetian did not seem to give the least
credence to this piece of information.

At last I was tired and left the ball, and went to bed intending to go to
mass in the morning. I slept for some time and woke, but as it was still
dark I turned on the other side and went to sleep again. At last I awoke
again, and seeing the daylight stealing through my double windows, I sent
for a hairdresser, telling my man to make haste as I wanted to hear mass
on the first Sunday after my arrival in St. Petersburg.

"But sir," said he, "the first Sunday was yesterday; we are at Monday
now."

"What! Monday?"

"Yes, sir."

I had spent twenty-seven hours in bed, and after laughing at the mishap I
felt as if I could easily believe it, for my hunger was like that of a
cannibal.

This is the only day which I really lost in my life; but I do not weep
like the Roman emperor, I laugh. But this is not the only difference
between Titus and Casanova.

I called on Demetrio Papanelopulo, the Greek merchant, who was to pay me
a hundred roubles a month. I was also commended to him by M. da Loglio,
and I had an excellent reception. He begged me to come and dine with him
every day, paid me the roubles for the month due, and assured me that he
had honoured my bill drawn at Mitau. He also found me a reliable servant,
and a carriage at eighteen roubles, or six ducats per month. Such
cheapness has, alas! departed for ever.

The next day, as I was dining with the worthy Greek and young Bernardi,
who was afterwards poisoned, Count Volpati came in with the dessert, and
told us how he had met a Venetian at the ball who had promised to come
and see him.

"The Venetian would have kept his promise," said I, "if he had not had a
long sleep of twenty-seven hours. I am the Venetian, and am delighted to
continue our acquaintance."

The count was about to leave, and his departure had already been
announced in the St. Petersbu