frightful piece of treachery? But if you _do_ think so badly of
me--if you have no confidence in the help I have promised--you can
bring Michele (who was so useful in rescuing you on the former
occasion), and let him bring a good force of Sbirri, who could be
waiting for you outside; as you could scarcely expect _me_ to fill my
house with Sbirri."

Marianna, looking him steadfastly in the eyes, said earnestly: "Since
you suggest that, I see that you mean honourably, Signor Nicolo, and
that my evil suspicions of you were unfounded. Pray forgive my
thoughtless words. Yet I cannot overcome my anxiety, and my fear for my
dearest uncle, and I again beg him not to venture upon this dangerous
expedition."

Signor Pasquale had listened to the conversation with strange looks,
which clearly testified to the contest within him. He could now
restrain himself no longer; he fell on his knees before Marianna,
seized her hands, kissed them, covered them with tears which streamed
from his eyes, and cried, as if beside himself: "Heavenly and adored
Marianna! the fire in my heart breaks forth into flame! Ah! this
anxiety, this fear on my account; what are they but the sweetest
admissions of your love for me?" He entreated her not to allow herself
to be alarmed in the very slightest degree, but to hear, on the stage,
the most lovely of the arias which the divinest of composers ever had
written.

Nicolo, too, continued the most pathetic entreaties, until Marianna
declared she was persuaded, and promised to lay aside all fear, and go
with her dear uncle to the theatre outside the Porto del Popolo.

Signor Pasquale was in the seventh heaven of bliss. He had the full
conviction that Marianna loved him, and he was going to hear his own
music on the stage, and gather the laurels which he had so long been
striving for in vain. He was on the very point of finding his fondest
dreams realized, and he wanted his light to shine in all its glory on
his faithful friends. His idea, therefore, was that Signor Splendiano
and little Pitichinaccio should go with him, just as they had done on
the former occasion.

But in addition to the spectres who had carried him off, all manner of
direful apparitions had haunted Signor Splendiano on the night when he
slept in his periwig near the Pyramid of Cestius. The whole
burying-ground seemed to have come to life, and hundreds of the dead
had stretched their bony arms out at him, complaining loudly concerning