But how to find him! that was the question, and one to which I could find no satisfactory answer; so in the dilemma in which I thus found myself involved, I decided to tell Luigi Beltrami, as the only friend I had in Verona, the whole devilish story. In addition to the desire I felt of asking his advice and opinion, I thought it but right that he should know the real character of the woman he was about to marry, and not discover too late that he was tied for life to a ghoul, a vampire, a murderess. With this determination I looked for the card the Marchese had given me, and finding it in one of my pockets, discovered that my Italian friend lived in the Via Cartoni. As he had mentioned that he was always at home in the afternoon, doubtless to take a siesta during the heat of the day, on finishing my midday meal I went out to pay him a visit. In spite of his assertion that he was poor, Beltrami had a sufficient income to warrant him living in a moderately expensive manner, and on my arrival at his rooms in the Via Cartoni, I was shown into a very well-furnished apartment. As the Marchese was stationed with his regiment at Verona for some considerable time, he had evidently brought a portion of his furniture from his Florentine palazzo, for the room was too handsome to be that of the ordinary class of furnished apartments. As usual, the ceiling was charmingly painted; the floor was of marble, covered here and therewith square Turkish carpets; and in addition to a piano there were plenty of pictures and photographs, showing the artistic taste of the owner of the place. Beltrami himself, dressed as usual in his uniform, was seated at a desk placed in the window, writing letters, but he desisted when I was announced, and arose to greet me with marked cordiality. "Ma foi, Hugo, this is kind of you to call so soon," he said when I was comfortably established in a chair. "I was just writing you a letter asking you to dine with me and go to the Ezzelino to-night, but as you are here the note is useless." "The fact is, my dear Marchese, I have called on a selfish errand." "Indeed!" "Yes; still it is one that concerns yourself also." "How so, mon ami? Come, tell me this mystery about which I know nothing and you know everything; but first here are some excellent cigarettes--Russian, my friend, not Italian. Dame! the tobacco of this country, it is horrible. Will you have some wine?" "No, thank you, Beltrami, but I will be glad to smoke." "Bene! help yourself." He pushed the box towards me, and, after I had taken a cigarette, followed my example, then, throwing himself into a chair near me, he nodded his head to show that he was ready to hear what I had to say. "Marchese!" I said, after some slight hesitation, "I think we are old enough friends to admit of my speaking to you freely." "Eh! certainly!" "I trust you will not be offended."