“I must keep my engagement with him.”

“I know that, but he will not keep his, and I am very glad of it.”

Changing the conversation and speaking of our old acquaintances, she informed me that she had quarreled with her brother Petronio, that her sister was primadonna in Genoa, and that Bellino Therese was still in Naples, where she continued to ruin dukes.  She concluded by saying;

“I am the most unhappy of the family.”

“How so?  You are beautiful, and you have become an excellent dancer.  Do not be so prodigal of your favours, and you cannot fail to meet with a man who will take care of your fortune.”

“To be sparing of my favours is very difficult; when I love, I am no longer mine, but when I do not love, I cannot be amiable.  Well, dearest, I could be very happy with you.”

“Dear Marina, I am not wealthy, and my honour would not allow me....”

“Hold your tongue; I understand you.”

“Why have you not a lady’s maid with you instead of a male servant?”

“You are right.  A maid would look more respectable, but my servant is so clever and so faithful!”

“I can guess all his qualities, but he is not a fit servant for you.”

The next day after dinner I left Marina getting ready for the theatre, and having put everything of value I possessed in my pocket, I took a carriage and proceeded to the Casino of Pomi.  I felt confident of disabling the false count, and sent the carriage away.  I was conscious of being guilty of great folly in exposing my life with such an adversary.  I might have broken my engagement with him without implicating my honour, but, the fact is that I felt well disposed for a fight, and as I was certainly in the right I thought the prospect of a duel very delightful.  A visit to a dancer, a brute professing to be a nobleman, who insults her in my presence, who wants to kill her, who allows her to be carried off in his very teeth, and whose only opposition is to give me an appointment!  It seemed to me that if I had failed to come, I should have given him the right to call me a coward.

The count had not yet arrived.  I entered the coffee-room to wait for him.  I met a good-looking Frenchman there, and I addressed him.  Being pleased with his conversation, I told him that I expected the arrival of a man, and that as my honour required that he should find me alone I would feel grateful if he would go away as soon as I saw the man approaching.  A short time afterwards I saw my adversary coming along, but with a second.  I then told the Frenchman that he would oblige me by remaining, and he accepted as readily as if I had invited him to a party of pleasure.  The count came in with his follower, who was sporting a sword at least forty inches long, and had all the look of a cut-throat.  I advanced towards the count, and said to him dryly,—­

“You told me that you would come alone.”

“My friend will not be in the way, as I only want to speak to you.”