He nodded, smiled, and vanished, then I took my departure from the theatre, and wandered up and down the street in the moonlight. I felt that to sit out the ballet would be more than I could bear, as I was so excited over the meeting with the Contessa Morone, therefore I strolled up and down the street, smoking and thinking. As time passed on I grew calmer, and thought I would return to the Ezzelino, not to see the ballet, but to catch a glimpse of the Contessa once more. As I reached the portico of the theatre she was just coming down the steps to her carriage, leaning on the arm of Beltrami, and I, hidden in the crowd, could see her looking hither and thither as if searching for some one. She could not see me, and in order to satisfy myself in every way as to her identity with the creature of the night I had seen leave the graveyard, with a sudden inspiration I hummed a few bars of the strange song I had heard in the fatal chamber. Being close to me she could hear quite plainly, and gave a kind of gasping cry as she fell back into the arms of Beltrami, just as he was helping her into the carriage. "What is the matter, cara?" he asked quickly. She clutched his arm with so powerful a grasp that it made him wince, and I heard her mutter with white lips,-- "Pallanza! Pallanza!" This was all I wanted to hear, and, fearful of discovery, I threaded my way quickly among the crowd, and hastened home to my hotel. I had recognised Guiseppe, I had found the woman who had slain him, but I had yet to discover where she had hidden the body of her victim--and then!--well, my future movements would be guided by circumstances. CHAPTER IX. FIORE DELLA CASA. I did not get much sleep that night after the excitements of the day, but towards the morning fell into an uneasy slumber, during which I had fragmentary dreams in which Pallanza, the Contessa, and the antique chamber were all mixed up together. One moment I was at the iron door of the tomb, and the guardian angel took the semblance of Signora Morone; the next I was kneeling beside the corpse of Pallanza, illuminated by the faint light of the candles; and I ever saw the pallid shade of Donna Renata pointing towards the watchful face of her husband, filled with ghastly meanings in the dim shadows. No wonder, after these terrific visions which blended the real and the ideal, I awoke in the grey morning light unrefreshed and haggard; so when the waiter brought me my roll and coffee I left them untouched, and, lying quietly in bed, wondered what step it was necessary to take next in solving this riddle.