spect
for the brave officer.

Henriette had nothing but the military costume in which she stood, not
any woman's linen, not even one chemise. For a change she took the
captain's shirt. Such a state of things was so new to me that the
situation seemed to me a complete enigma.

In Bologna, excited by an excellent supper and by the amorous passion
which was every hour burning more fiercely in me, I asked her by what
singular adventure she had become the friend of the honest fellow who
looked her father rather than her lover.

"If you wish to know," she answered, with a smile, "ask him to relate the
whole story himself, only you must request him not to omit any of the
particulars."

Of course I applied at once to the captain, and, having first ascertained
by signs that the charming Frenchwoman had no objection, the good man
spoke to me thus:

"A friend of mine, an officer in the army, having occasion to go to Rome,
I solicited a furlough of six months, and accompanied him. I seized with
great delight the opportunity of visiting a city, the name of which has a
powerful influence on the imagination, owing to the memories of the past
attached to it. I did not entertain any doubt that the Latin language was
spoken there in good society, at least as generally as in Hungary. But I
was indeed greatly mistaken, for nobody can speak it, not even the
priests, who only pretend to write it, and it is true that some of them
do so with great purity. I was therefore rather uncomfortable during my
stay in Rome, and with the exception of my eyes my senses remained
perfectly inactive. I had spent a very tedious month in that city, the
ancient queen of the world, when Cardinal Albani gave my friend
dispatches for Naples. Before leaving Rome, he introduced me to his
eminence, and his recommendation had so much influence that the cardinal
promised to send me very soon with dispatches for the Duke of Parma,
Piacenza, and Guastalla, assuring me that all my travelling expenses
would be defrayed. As I wished to see the harbour called in former times
Centum cellae and now Civita-Vecchia, I gave up the remainder of my time
to that visit, and I proceeded there with a cicerone who spoke Latin.

"I was loitering about the harbour when I saw, coming out of a tartan, an
elderly officer and this young woman dressed as she is now. Her beauty
struck me, but I should not have thought any more about it, if the
officer had not put up at my inn, and in an