"I think so! but I hope Madame Morone will not be there!"
"There's no fear of that, as she has no reason to pay a second visit to the remains of her husband. She has got the poison, and knows nothing about the antidote, so make yourself easy on that score. Ecco!"
"What are you going to do now, Marchesa!"
"See if I can obtain that key. If I fail to obtain it, I will bring Matteo with me. As for you, my friend, go and take something to eat, and meet me on the Ponte Aleardi at midnight."
"I will be there, Beltrami. Good-bye for the present."
"À revederci, Hugo; I am obliged for your confidence, as it has solved the difficulty of knowing what to do with Signor Cupid."
We both went different ways; Beltrami to search for his key, and myself to hasten home to my hotel, and prepare myself for the fatigues of this midnight excursion, which, however much it appealed to the Marchese's sense of the romantic, was certainly not relished by me.
[CHAPTER XIII.]
"DOWN AMONG THE DEAD MEN."
Do you know that gruesome old ballad, with its sombre refrain of "Down! Down! Down among the dead men?" A friend of mine with a deep bass voice, used to sing it in order to display his lower notes, upon which--and not without reason--he flattered himself greatly; but in after years, I never heard it sung without a shudder, so vividly did it recall to my mind the grotesque horror of that midnight visit to the Tomb of the Morone, in that old burial-ground of Verona. Of late I had been so much mixed up with ghosts, vaults, ghouls and crimes, that I was by no means anxious to continue the category, and would have infinitely preferred to have let Beltrami, who liked such uncomfortable things, go alone; but being an Englishman, I had to uphold the honour of my country, so never thought for a moment of showing the white feather. Besides, the only chance of saving Pallanza was by obtaining possession of the antidote, and in spite of my repugnance to the errand, I fully made up my mind to be on the Ponte Aleardi at the appointed time.