Pinetti, like the coward he was, had fled after the atrocious insult he had offered me. To have challenged him would be doing him too much honor, so I vowed to fight him with his own weapons, and humiliate the shameful traitor in my turn. This was the plan I drew up: I determined to devote myself ardently to sleight-of-hand, and study thoroughly an art of which I as yet knew only the first principles. Then, when quite confident in myself--when I had added many new tricks to Pinetti’s repertoire--I would pursue my enemy, enter every town before him, and continually crush him by my superiority. Full of this idea, I sold everything I possessed, and took refuge in the country, where, completely retired from the world, I prepared my plans for vengeance. I cannot describe to you, my friend, what patience I devoted and how I toiled during the six months my voluntary retreat lasted; but I was more than compensated for it, as my success was complete. I gained a degree of skill to which I had never dared to pretend: Pinetti was no longer my master, and I became his rival. Not satisfied with these results, I intended also to eclipse him by the richness of my stage. I, therefore, ordered apparatus of unknown brilliancy in those days, spending in this every farthing I possessed. With what delight did I regard these glittering instruments, each of which seemed to me a weapon capable of inflicting mortal wounds on my adversary’s vanity. How proudly my heart beat at the thought of the contest I would commence with him! Henceforth, it would be a duel of skill between Pinetti and myself, but a mortal duel; one of us must remain on the ground, and I had reason to hope that I should be the victor in the struggle. Before commencing my tour I made some inquiries about my rival, and learned that, after traversing Southern Italy, he had just left Lucca, _en route_ for Bologna. I learned, too, that, on leaving that city, he intended to visit Modena, Parma and Piacenza. Without loss of time I set out for Modena, in order to precede him there, and thus prevent him performing. Enormous bills announced the representations of “THE COUNT DE GRISY, THE FRENCH ARTIST,” and my programme was most attractive, for it contained all Pinetti’s tricks. The papers had puffed the latter so extravagantly for some time past, that I felt sure my performance would be gladly witnessed. In fact, my room was taken by storm, as eagerly as on my disastrous performance at Naples; but this time the result was very different. The improvements I had introduced in my rival’s tricks, and the great skill I displayed in performing them, gained me a unanimous verdict.