er till she orders me not to do so, or till the count signifies
to me his displeasure at my visits to his mistress."

"The count will never do such a thing; he is too careful of his dignity."

The worthy officer then narrated to me all the acts of injustice which
Ricla had committed since he had fallen in love with this woman. He had
dismissed gentlemen from his service on the mere suspicion that they were
in love with her; some had been exiled, and others imprisoned on one
frivolous pretext or another. Before he had known Nina he had been a
pattern of wisdom, justice, and virtue, and now he had become unjust,
cruel, blindly passionate, and in every way a scandal to the high
position he occupied.

All this should have influenced me, but it had not the slightest effect.
I told him for politeness' sake that I would endeavour to part from her
by degrees, but I had no intention of doing so.

When I asked him how he knew that I visited Nina, he laughed and said it
was a common topic of conversation all over the town.

The same evening I called on her without mentioning my conversation with
the officer. There would have been some excuse for me if I had been in
love with her, but as it was . . . I acted like a madman.

On the 14th of November I went to see her at the usual time. I found her
with a man who was shewing her miniatures. I looked at him and found that
he was the scoundrel Passano, or Pogomas.

My blood boiled; I took Nina's hand and led her into a neighbouring room,
and told her to dismiss the rogue at once, or I would go to return no
more.

"He's a painter."

"I am well acquainted with his history, and will tell you all about it
presently; but send him away, or I shall go."

She called her sister, and told her to order the Genoese to leave the
house and never to enter it again.

The thing was 'done in a moment, but the sister told us that as he went
out he had said,--

"Se ne pentira." ("He shall be sorry for it.").

I occupied an hour in relating some of the injuries I had received from
this scoundrelly fellow.

The next day (November 15th), I went to Nina at the usual time, and after
spending two hours in pleasant converse with her and her sister I went
out as the clocks were striking midnight.

The door of the house was under an arcade, which extended to the end of
the street. It was a dark night; and I had scarcely gone twenty-five
paces when two men suddenly rushed at me.

I stepped back,