Faith! I left them there alone together."
"Oh! that's where he is supping, then?" said the Marchese, in the
most unconcerned tone he could manage.
"Yes; supping,--or enjoying himself in some other way, quite as
delightful. The fact is, Signor Marchese," continued the poet, in a
lowered voice, and rapidly glancing around to see that there were no
ears within such a distance as to overhear his words,--"the fact is,
that I am afraid Signor Ludovico is less cautious than it would be
well for him to be, circumstanced as he is! I am sure I did not want
to listen to what he and the Lalli were saying to each other. It is
nothing to me. But they spoke with such little precaution, that I
could not help overhearing what they said; and what do you think
Ludovico is up to now?"
"How should I know!" said the Marchese, with the tips of his pale
lips; for he was grinding his teeth together to prevent them from
chattering in his head.
"He is off at six o'clock to-morrow morning tete-a-tete with La
Bianca, on an excursion to the Pineta. Coming it strong, isn't it?"
"To-morrow morning!" said the Marchese under his breath, and with
difficulty; for his blood seemed suddenly to rush back cold to his
heart, and he was shivering all over.
"Niente meno! I heard them arrange it all. He is to slip away from
the ball presently, in order to make all needful preparations, and
to be at her door with a bagarino at six o'clock in the morning.
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