Among the other groups, I observed two persons who went intriguing round the _salle_, appearing to know the secrets of many of their acquaintances, whom it seemed their delight to torment and persecute, and whom, notwithstanding their masks, they had detected by the voice, which, however attempted to be disguised, betrays more than the eyes, or even the mouth, though it is the great seat of expression. The pair wore fancy dresses. The domino of the man was of Persian or Turkish manufacture, a rich silk with a purple ground, in which were inwoven palm-leaves of gold, The costume of the lady, who seemed of a portly figure, not the most symmetrical, was a rich Venetian brocade, such as we see in the gorgeous pictures of Paul Veronese, and much in use during the dogal times of the republic. As they passed me, I heard the lady say, looking at me, "That is a foreigner." "_Si signora, è Inglese_," was the reply; "_lo conosco_." Who this could be who knew me,--me, almost a stranger at Venice, I was curious to discover. By the slow and drawling accent peculiar to the Romans, I felt satisfied he was one, and fancied that I had heard that voice before,--that it was not altogether unfamiliar to me. I was desirous of unravelling the secret, for such it was, as the man did not address me; and I remained at the Ridotta much later than I should otherwise have done, in order to find out my unknown acquaintance. I therefore kept my eye on the couple, hoping that accident might favour my wish. On the last nights of the carnival it is common to sup at the Ridotta, and I at length watched the _incognito_ into a box with his _inamorata_, where he took off his mask, and whom should I discover under it but the identical hero of romance, the villain Mascalbruni. He was an acquaintance who might well shun _my_ recognition, and I was not anxious he should see I had attracted _his_ observation. As I was returning to my hotel on the Grand Canal, I asked the gondolier if he knew one Signor Mascalbruni. These boatmen are a kind of Figaros, and, like the agents of the Austrian police, are acquainted with the names and address of almost every resident in Venice, especially of those who frequent the public places. The man, however, did not know _my friend_ by that name,--perhaps he had changed it. But when I described his costume, he said that the signor was the _cavalier servente_ of a Russian princess, who had taken for a year one of the largest palaces in Venice. "_Il signor_," he added, "_canta come un angelo_." The idea of coupling an angel and Mascalbruni together amused me. "An angel of darkness!" I was near replying; but thought it best to be silent. I had no wish to encounter Mascalbruni a second time. I went the next day to Fusina, and thence to Milan; indeed I had made all the preparations for my departure, nothing being more dull than the _Carême_ at Venice.