“Well,” said he, “was I mistaken?”
“She has answered you!” cried Franz.
“Read.”
This word was pronounced in a manner impossible to describe. Franz took the letter, and read:
“Tuesday evening, at seven o’clock, descend from your carriage opposite the Via dei Pontefici, and follow the Roman peasant who snatches your torch from you. When you arrive at the first step of the church of San Giacomo, be sure to fasten a knot of rose-colored ribbons to the shoulder of your harlequin costume, in order that you may be recognized. Until then you will not see me.
“Well,” asked he, when Franz had finished, “what do you think of that?”
“I think that the adventure is assuming a very agreeable appearance.”
“I think so, also,” replied Albert; “and I very much fear you will go alone to the Duke of Bracciano’s ball.”
Franz and Albert had received that morning an invitation from the celebrated Roman banker.
“Take care, Albert,” said Franz. “All the nobility of Rome will be present, and if your fair incognita belong to the higher class of society, she must go there.”
“Whether she goes there or not, my opinion is still the same,” returned Albert. “You have read the letter?”
“Yes.”