He therefore engaged the services of the two Italian spies; and after having despatched Annina to the Baron with the note from the imaginary "Mariandel," he proceeded to the inn named therein, where he made elaborate arrangements for the carrying out of his joke. He hired several rascally-looking loafers and hid them in various parts of the room he had engaged, giving them instructions to show their villainous faces at signals from himself; and having also sent messengers to Faninal and the Princess, begging them to appear at the inn at a certain time, and made further plans with Annina to enact a part in his little farce, he proceeded to array himself once more in the clothes of "Mariandel," the pretended "waiting-maid," and then sallied forth to meet the amorous Baron.

In a few minutes he returned to the inn leaning on the arm of the latter and pretending to be pleased with his foolish remarks and maudlin love-making. They seated themselves at the supper table; but the Baron was so delighted at his seeming conquest of the pretty and saucy "Mariandel" that he preferred to make love to her rather than to feast.

But the enticing "waiting-maid," after partaking, under protest, of a glass of wine, pretended to grow sleepy; and when the Baron presently tried to draw her into his arms, he was startled and alarmed by the sudden appearance of strange, evil-looking faces staring at him from various parts of the darkened room.

The apparitions vanished as suddenly as they had appeared; but the Baron soon had another bad fright. Annina now appeared, disguised as a middle-aged lady in deepest mourning garments and accompanied by four young children also garbed in black; and as she flung herself into the arms of the amazed Baron, declaring herself to be his deserted but still loving wife, the little ones clung around his legs and hung on to his coat-tails, calling out plaintively "Papa! Papa! Papa!"

The Baron was furious at this interruption to his pleasure, but was at the same time confused, not remembering which of his many victims of amorous intrigues this particular one could be, and thinking to bluster the matter out, he ran to the window and called loudly for the watch.

When, however, in answer to his calls, the Chief Commissary of Police appeared, he found himself in a worse predicament than ever, for the Commissary insisted upon asking him many awkward questions, and accused him of having the young girl, "Mariandel" at the inn without the consent of her guardians.

As the now bewildered Baron tried to find a way out of his difficulty his confusion was still further increased by the arrival of Faninal with Sophia; for he had tried to appease the Commissary by declaring his supper companion to be his fiancée. On hearing this statement from the Commissary, Faninal became so furiously angry at the Baron's conduct that he fell down in a fit and had to be removed to another chamber, where he was attended by Sophia.

Meanwhile, Octavian, having found an opportunity of whispering secretly to the Commissary, retired to a curtained recess, where he hastily discarded his female garments, and presently reappeared in his own garb, just as the Princess entered the room.

The Baron was now completely nonplussed; for, at this moment, Sophia also returned to announce to him that her father was so disgusted at his loose behaviour that he withdrew his consent to the marriage which had been arranged, and refused to have anything further to do with so disreputable a suitor.

The Princess next stepped forward and explained that the whole of the evening's proceedings had been a hoax—a diversion which had been planned by the young Octavian, his own kinsman and rose-bearer, who had also enacted the part of the pretty "Mariandel"; and finally, the Baron, covered with confusion and ridicule, was obliged to beat a hasty retreat and retire from the neighbourhood altogether.