I likewise left in Venice my brother Jean, who had returned to that city after having travelled through Italy with Guarienti.  He was on the point of going to Rome, where he remained fourteen years in the studio of Raphael Mengs.  He left Rome for Dresden in 1764, where he died in the year 1795.

Baletti started before me, and I left Venice, to meet him in Reggio, on the 1st of June, 1750.  I was well fitted out, well supplied with money, and sure not to want for any, if I led a proper life.  We shall soon see, dear reader, what judgment you will pass on my conduct, or rather I shall not see it, for I know that when you are able to judge, I shall no longer care for your sentence.

CHAPTER V

I Stop at Ferrara, Where I Have a Comic Adventure—­My Arrival in Paris

Precisely at twelve o’clock the peotta landed me at Ponte di Lago Oscuro, and I immediately took a post-chaise to reach Ferrara in time for dinner.  I put up at St. Mark’s Hotel.  I was following the waiter up the stairs, when a joyful uproar, which suddenly burst from a room the door of which was open, made me curious to ascertain the cause of so much mirth.  I peeped into the room, and saw some twelve persons, men and women, seated round a well-supplied table.  It was a very natural thing, and I was moving on, when I was stopped by the exclamation, “Ah, here he is!” uttered by the pretty voice of a woman, and at the same moment, the speaker, leaving the table, came to me with open arms and embraced me, saying,

“Quick, quick, a seat for him near me; take his luggage to his room.”

A young man came up, and she said to him, “Well, I told you he would arrive to-day?”

She made me sit near her at the table, after I had been saluted by all the guests who had risen to do me honour.

“My dear cousin,” she said, addressing me, “you must be hungry;” and as she spoke she squeezed my foot under the table.  “Here is my intended husband whom I beg to introduce to you, as well as my father and mother-in-law.  The other guests round the table are friends of the family.  But, my dear cousin, tell me why my mother has not come with you?”

At last I had to open my lips!

“Your mother, my dear cousin, will be here in three or four days, at the latest.”

I thought that my newly-found cousin was unknown to me, but when I looked at her with more attention, I fancied I recollected her features.  She was the Catinella, a dancer of reputation, but I had never spoken to her before.  I easily guessed that she was giving me an impromptu part in a play of her own composition, and I was to be a ‘deux ex machina’.  Whatever is singular and unexpected has always attracted me, and as my cousin was pretty, I lent myself most willingly to the joke, entertaining no doubt that she would reward me in an agreeable manner.  All I had to do was to play my part well, but without