ame di Negra with
assurances that the fugitives sought for would sooner or later be
discovered. Though Randal baffled and eluded her suspicion that he was
already acquainted with the exiles, ("the persons he had thought of were,"
he said, "quite different from her description;" and he even presented to
her an old singing-master, and a sallow-faced daughter, as the Italians
who had caused his mistake), it was necessary for Beatrice to prove the
sincerity of the aid she had promised to her brother, and to introduce
Randal to the Count. It was no less desirable to Randal to know, and even
win the confidence of this man--his rival.

The two met at Madame di Negra's house. There is something very strange,
and almost mesmerical, in the _rapport_ between two evil natures. Bring
two honest men together, and it is ten to one if they recognize each other
as honest; differences in temper, manner, even politics, may make each
misjudge the other. But bring together two men, unprincipled and
perverted--men who, if born in a cellar, would have been food for the hulks
or gallows--and they recognize each other by instant sympathy. The eyes of
Franzini, Count of Peschiera, and Randal Leslie no sooner met, than a
gleam of intelligence shot from both. They talked on indifferent
subjects--weather, gossip, politics--what not. They bowed and they smiled;
but, all the while, each was watching, plumbing the other's heart; each
measuring his strength with his companion; each inly saying, "This is a
very remarkable rascal; am I a match for him?" It was at dinner they met;
and, following the English fashion, Madame di Negra left them alone with
their wine.

Then, for the first time, Count di Peschiera cautiously and adroitly made
a covered push towards the object of the meeting.

"You have never been abroad, my dear sir? You must contrive to visit me at
Vienna. I grant the splendor of your London world; but, honestly speaking,
it wants the freedom of ours--a freedom which unites gayety with polish.
For as your society is mixed, there are pretension and effort with those
who have no right to be in it, and artificial condescension and chilling
arrogance with those who have to keep their inferiors at a certain
distance. With us, all being of fixed rank and acknowledged birth,
familiarity is at once established." "Hence," added the Count, with his
French lively smile--"hence there is no place like Vienna for a young
man--no place like Vienna for _bo