“You shall not do it,” answered the young count, very coolly, “unless he kills me first.”

“Gentlemen,” exclaimed M. de Bragadin, “I can assure you that you will neither of you fight a duel with him, for Steffani is dead.”

“Dead!” said the count.

“We must not,” observed the prudent Barbaro, “take that word in its literal sense, but the wretched man is dead to all honour and self-respect.”

After that truly dramatic scene, during which I could guess that the denouement of the play was near at hand, I went to my charming countess, taking care to change my gondola three times—­a necessary precaution to baffle spies.

I gave my anxious mistress an exact account of all the conversation.  She was very impatient for my coming, and wept tears of joy when I repeated her father’s words of forgiveness; but when I told her that nobody knew of Steffani having entered her chamber, she fell on her knees and thanked God.  I then repeated her brother’s words, imitating his coolness:  “You shall not kill him, unless he kills me first.”  She kissed me tenderly, calling me her guardian angel, her saviour, and weeping in my arms.  I promised to bring her brother on the following day, or the day after that at the latest.  We had our supper, but we did not talk of Steffani, or of revenge, and after that pleasant meal we devoted two hours to the worship of the god of love.

I left her at midnight, promising to return early in the morning—­my reason for not remaining all night with her was that the landlady might, if necessary, swear without scruple that I had never spent a night with the young girl.  It proved a very lucky inspiration of mine, for, when I arrived home, I found the three friends waiting impatiently for me in order to impart to me wonderful news which M. de Bragadin had heard at the sitting of the senate.

“Steffani,” said M. de Bragadin to me, “is dead, as our angel Paralis revealed it to us; he is dead to the world, for he has become a Capuchin friar.  The senate, as a matter of course, has been informed of it.  We alone are aware that it is a punishment which God has visited upon him.  Let us worship the Author of all things, and the heavenly hierarchy which renders us worthy of knowing what remains a mystery to all men.  Now we must achieve our undertaking, and console the poor father.  We must enquire from Paralis where the girl is.  She cannot now be with Steffani.  Of course, God has not condemned her to become a Capuchin nun.”

“I need not consult my angel, dearest father, for it is by his express orders that I have been compelled until now to make a mystery of the refuge found by the young countess.”

I related the whole story, except what they had no business to know, for, in the opinion of the worthy men, who had paid heavy tribute to Love, all intrigues were fearful crimes.  M. Dandolo and M. Barbaro expressed their surprise when they heard that the young girl had been under my protection for a fortnight, but M. de Bragadin said that he was not astonished, that it was according to cabalistic science, and that he knew it.