Having detained the lady in Dresden considerably beyond the day When she expected to set out, De Monge was at length compelled to Allow her departure.  Her escort through the partially-disturbed country in which she was to travel, was to consist of an individual who was well acquainted with the roads, and had frequently acted as a the Italian frontier.  Mazzuolo, as this man was called, was an Italian by birth, and gladly undertook a commission which promised him a rich harvest of booty.  His bargain with the treacherous De Monge was, that if he made away with the life of Madame Louison while on the journey, and before she could communicate with her husband, he was to be at liberty to carry off all her baggage, which contained valuable articles to a large amount.  The Italian stipulated that his wife, dressed in male attire, and a lad on whom he could depend, should accompany him.

Everything being settled, the morning of departure arrived.  Adelaide had not seen her travelling companions till they with the carriage, into which she was handed by Mazzuolo, with all the deference that her beauty and elegant attire might naturally command.  She wore a black velvet bonnet and Chantilly veil, a crimson silk pelisse trimmed with rich furs, a boa of Russian sable; and, over all, a loose pelisse, lined with fur.  Mazzuolo and his wife thought that this augured well for the contents of her trunks.

The length of the journey, the dangers of the road, and the goodness or badness of the inns they should have to rest at, formed the subjects of conversation for the first hour or two.  The stage was very long, and it was eleven o’clock before they reached their first relay of horses, by which time the young traveller had decided that she had great reason to be satisfied with her companions.  The Italian was polite and entertaining; he had travelled a great deal, and was full of anecdote; and being naturally lively and garrulous, the design he entertained of taking away the life of his charge did not prevent his making himself agreeable to her in the meantime.  With his well-seared conscience, he neither felt nervous nor saturnine at the prospect of what was before him—­why should he indeed?—­for the only part of the prospect he fixed his eye upon was the gain; the little operation by means of which it was to be acquired, he did not think very seriously of; besides, he did not intend to perform it himself.

When they stopped to change horses, a lad of about seventeen years of age, named Karl, nephew of Mazzuolo’s wife, came to the carriage door:  he seemed to have been waiting for them.  Mazzuolo spoke to him aside for some minutes, and when they started again, the youth mounted in front of the carriage.  The Italian said he was a lad they had engaged to look after the luggage, and be useful on the journey.  He was, in fact, one who was hired to do any piece of work, good or bad.  He possessed no moral strength, could be easily led by the will of his employers; in short, was a very useful ally.  He had a broad, fair, stolid German face; and from the glimpse she had of him, Adelaide thought she had seldom seen a more unprepossessing-looking person.  His home had been a rude and unhappy one; his manners were coarse and unpolished, and his dress shabby.