the same remark does not also apply to the prince. The
element in which he now lives is not calculated to render him
permanently happy, or my sixteen years' experience has deceived me.

LETTER II.

BARON VON F---- TO COUNT VON O------
June 4.

I should never have thought that our stay at Venice would have been
productive of any good consequences. It has been the means of saving a
man's life, and I am reconciled to it.

Some few evenings ago the prince was being carried home late at night
from the Bucentauro; two domestics, of whom Biondello was one,
accompanied him. By some accident it happened that the sedan, which had
been hired in haste, broke down, and the prince was obliged to proceed
the remainder of the way-on foot. Biondello walked in front; their
course lay through several dark, retired streets, and, as daybreak was
at hand, the lamps were either burning dimly or had gone out altogether.
They had proceeded about a quarter of an hour when Biondello discovered
that he had lost his way. The similarity of the bridges had deceived
him, and, instead of crossing that of St. Mark, they found themselves in
Sestiere di Castello. It was in a by-street, and not a soul was
stirring; they were obliged to turn back in order to gain a main street
by which to set themselves right. They had proceeded but a few paces
when they heard cries of "murder" in a neighboring street. With his
usual determined courage, the prince, unarmed as he was, snatched a
stick from one of his attendants, and rushed forward in the direction
whence the sound came. Three ruffianly-looking fellows were just about
to assassinate a man, who with his companion was feebly defending
himself; the prince appeared just in time to arrest the fatal blow. The
voices of the prince and his followers alarmed the murderers, who did
not expect any interruption in so lonely a place; after inflicting a few
slight wounds with their daggers, they abandoned their victim and took
to their heels. Exhausted with the unequal combat, the wounded man sunk
half fainting into the arms of the prince; his companion informed my
master that the man whose life he had saved was the Marquis Civitella,
a nephew of the Cardinal A------. As the marquis' wounds bled freely,
Biondello acted as surgeon to the best of his ability, and the prince
took care to have him conveyed to the palace of his uncle, which was
near at hand, and whither he himself accompanied him. This done, he
left