orange-blossoms.  I turned, and saw her approaching.  With swift grace she ran up to me as eagerly as a child, her heavy cloak of rich Russian sable falling back from her shoulders and displaying her glittering dress, the dark fur of the hood heightening by contrast the fairness of her lovely flushed face, so that it looked like the face of one of Correggio’s angels framed in ebony and velvet.  She laughed, and her eyes flashed saucily.

“Did I keep you waiting, caro mio?” she whispered; and standing on tiptoe she kissed the hand with which I held my cloak muffled about me.  “How tall you look in that Almaviva!  I am so sorry I am a little late, but that last waltz was so exquisite I could not resist it; only I wish you had danced it with me.”

“You honor me by the wish,” I said, keeping one arm about her waist and drawing her toward the door that opened into the garden.  “Tell me, how did you manage to leave the ball-room?”

“Oh, easily.  I slipped away from my partner at the end of the waltz, and told him I should return immediately.  Then I ran upstairs to my room, got my cloak—­and here I am.”

And she laughed again.  She was evidently in the highest spirits.

“You are very good to come with me at all, mia bella,” I murmured as gently as I could; “it is kind of you to thus humor my fancy.  Did you see your maid? does she know where you are going?”

“She?  Oh, no, she was not in my room at all.  She is a great coquette, you know; I dare say she is amusing herself with the waiters in the kitchen.  Poor thing!  I hope she enjoys it.”

I breathed freely; we were so far undiscovered.  No one had as yet noticed our departure—­no one had the least clew to my intentions, I opened the door of the passage noiselessly, and we passed out.  Wrapping my wife’s cloak more closely about her with much apparent tenderness, I led her quickly across the garden.  There was no one in sight—­we were entirely unobserved.  On reaching the exterior gate of the inclosure I left her for a moment, while I summoned a carriage, a common fiacre.  She expressed some surprise on seeing the vehicle.

“I thought we were not going far?” she said.

I reassured her on this point, telling her that I only desired to spare her all possible fatigue.  Satisfied with this explanation, she suffered me to assist her into the carriage.  I followed her, and calling to the driver, “A la Villa Guarda,” we rattled away over the rough uneven stones of the back streets of the city.

“La Villa Guarda!” exclaimed Nina.  “Where is that?”

“It is an old house,” I replied, “situated near the place I spoke to you of, where the jewels are.”

“Oh!”

And apparently contented, she nestled back in the carriage, permitting her head to rest lightly on my shoulder.  I drew her closer to me, my heart beating with a fierce, terrible joy.

“Mine—­mine at last!” I whispered in her ear.  “Mine forever!”