San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1891-07-20

addressed her.
Cara sposina mial permit me to re-
mind you OF your promise"
What radiant look she gave me.
II am all impatience to fulfil it! Tel
me when--and how?"
almost Immediately. You know the
private passage through which we en-.
tered the hotel this morning on our re-
turn from church,"
Perfectly"
well, meet me there in twenty min
utes. We must avoid being observed as
we pass out. But" and i touched hel
delicate dress, ''you will wear something
warmer than this?"
have long sable cloak that will do
she replied brightly. ave are not going
far?"
mo, not far"
1--WE shall return in time for supper,
of course?"
/ bent my head.
"NaturalIy!'
Her eyes danced mirthfally.
How romantic it seems! A moonlight
stroll with you will be charming! Who
shall say you are not sentimental
bridegroom? Is there a bright moon?"
81 believe So"
"Cosa bellissima!'' and she laughed
sweetly. 81 look forward to the tripl
In twenty minutes then, shall be with
you at the place you name, Cesare; in
the meanwhile the MarcheSe Gualdro
claims me for this mazurka."
And she turned with her bewitching
grace of manner to the Marchese. who
at that moment advanced with his
courteous bow and fascinating smile,
and l watched them as they glided for
ward together in the first figure of the
elegant Polish dance. in which all lovely
women look their lovelieSt.
Then, checking the curse that rose to
my lips, hurried away. Up to my
own room l rushed with feverish haste,
full of impotence to be rid of the dis
guise | had worn so long.
Within few minutes stood before
my mirror, transferred into my old self
as nearly as it was possible to be- |
could not alter the snowy whitenesS of
my hair, but few deft quick strokes of
the razor soon Invested me Of the beard
that had given me so elderly an aspect.
aud nothing remained but the NOUS
tache curling slightly up at the cor
nerS eff the lip, as | had worn it in past
days. | threw aside the dark glasses.
and my eyes, denSely brilliant, and
fringed with the long lashes that had
always been their distinguishing fea-
ture, shone with all the lustre of strong
and vigoruOs youth. | Strengthened
myself up to my full height, | doubled
my fist and felt it hard as iron; | laughed
aloud in the triumphant. power OF my
strong manhood. | thought of the old
rag dealing Jew-"YOu could kill any
thing easily" Aye, so | could
even without the aid of the straight,
swift steel OF the Milanese dagger which
| now drew from its sheath and regarded
steadfastly, while / carefully felt the
edge of the blade from hilt to point.
Should l take it with me? | hesitated.
Yes! it might be needed. l slipped it
safely and secretly into my vest.
And now the proofs-the proofs! had
them all ready to my hand, and gathered
them quickly together; first the things
that had been buried with me-the gold
chain on which hung the locket contain
ing the portraits of my wife and child,
the purse and Card-case which Nina her.
self had given me, the crucihX the monk
had laid on my breast in the coffin. The
thought of that coffin moved me to
stern Smie-that splintered, damp, and
Wondering wood must speak for itself
by and by. Lastly took the letters sent
me by the Marquis D'Avencourt-the
beautiful, passionate lOve-eplStles she
had written to Guido Ferrari in Rome.
Now, was that all? | thoroughly
searched both my rooms, ransacked
every corner. / had DESTROYED every
thing that could give the smallest clue
TO my actions left nothing save furni-
ture and small valuableS, respectable
present enough IN their way TO the land
lord of the hotel.
glanced again at myself in the mir
ror. Yes: | was once more Fabio
Romani, in spite of my white hair--no
one that had ever known me intimately
could doubt my indemnity. l had
changed my evening dress for a rough,
everyday suit, and now over this
threw my long Almaviva cloak, which
draped me from head to foot. l kept its
folds well up about my mouth and chin,
and pulled on soft SlOuched hat, with
the brim far down over nv eyes. There
was nothing unusual in such a costume;
it was common enough to many NeapOli.
tans who have learned TO dread the chill
night winds that blow down from the
lofty Apennines in early spring. Thus
attired, too, | knew my features woulC
he almost invisible to her, more especially
as the place of our rendezvous was ;
long dim entresol lit only by single OF
lamp, a passage that led into the garden
one that was only used for private pur
| poses, having nothing to do with the or
| binary modes of exit and entrance to anC
| from the hotel.
Into this hall | now hurried with al
| eager step: it was deserted;-she wa
| not there. Impatiently l waited-th
| minutes seemed hours! Sounds of must
| floated towards me from the distant bal
room--the dreamy, swinging measure o
| q Ninnnnsn ualIz | conld almost hea