“In my dressing-room, where he never steps his foot,” replied the princess with a peal of laughter.
Marquis Adelardi, as we are aware, had deplored George’s infatuation as much as the princess herself, but he now felt dissatisfied with her and himself, and he soon left her to go in search of his friend. He felt anxious about him, for he knew he was tempted by a dangerous curiosity and was unwilling to lose sight of him. They had made arrangements to meet and dine together at a kind of casino then popular, and he hoped to retain him the remainder of the evening. But arriving at the place of rendezvous he did not find him as he expected. George was gone, but had left a note which drew from Adelardi an energetic exclamation of disappointment. The note ran thus: “Once is not a habit. I have accepted Lasko’s invitation for this evening. Dini will accompany me. But be easy, I am not going under my own name, and shall not be known by any one.”
“Lasko!” muttered the marquis, stamping his foot. “That is his name now! Confound him! why is he not still in the dungeons of Spielberg—the only place fit for him!”
TO BE CONTINUED.
THE PAPACY.
That such a power should live and breathe, doth seem
A thought from which men fain would be relieved,
A grandeur not to be endured, a dream
Darkening the soul, though it be unbelieved.
August conception! far above king, law,
Or popular right; how calmly dost thou draw
Under thine awful shadow mortal pain,
And joy not mortal! Witness of a need
Deep laid in man, and therefore pierced in vain,
As though thou wert no form that thou shouldst bleed!
While such a power there lives in old man’s shape,
Such and so dread, should not his mighty will
And supernatural presence, Godlike, fill
The air we breathe, and leave us no escape?
—Faber