Alberto flew to his uncle, and was silently embraced. Even at this moment, sacred to the interchange of the noblest affections, several persons in the audience distinctly saw the uncle's left eye wink over Alberto's shoulder to Bidette, who responded to the unwelcome familiarity, this time, with an indignant frown. The nephew gently uncoiled his uncle, and addressed himself to the father: "Respected sir, I have long loved your daughter, and am not totally unprepared to believe that she may, in some slight measure, reciprocate my affections. I humbly solicit her hand in marriage." The father, with the characteristic decision of an old man of business, had already made up his mind. Alberto, the young partner and heir of the rich usurer of Venice, would be a more manageable son-in-law than the middle-aged though wealthy Rodicaso. The father said words to this effect in an "aside," and then replied aloud: "Her hand is yours; and may your union be crowned with felicity. Come, children, and receive a parent's blessing." "My bitter curse be on you all! Boy, we shall meet again!" shouted Rodicaso, striding off the stage, and followed by the notary for his pay, and by the laughter and scorn of the rest of the company. Fidelia's little cup of earthly happiness was now full. Her time for fainting had arrived at last. Everybody moved to clear a space for her. She rose, and walked with an unfaltering step toward Alberto. There was no overdone rapture in her gait; no exaggerated ecstasy in her face. As a practised critic remarked, "her calmness was the truest expression of her agony of joy." Alberto advanced halfway with a lover's ardor, and extended his arms. Then was her time to faint; and she fainted with a slight scream, sinking gently upon a faithful breast. The father raised his hands above the couple, and blessed them in the correct way, never seen off the stage. Uncle Bignolio wiped his eyes, and murmured, "Dear boy! How much he looks like his father now!"--a remark somewhat out of place, considering that Alberto's back was turned to the uncle. Bidette hovered near the happy group, and danced for joy. It was a touching tableau, and the spectators applauded it In a way that tickled the heart of the author, who was watching the effect through an eyehole of the left wing. CHAPTER IV. HOW THE PLAY ENDED. Just as the curtain was to be rung down on the end of the play, a mad clatter of boots was heard behind the scenes. Then a man, dressed in complete black, and excessively pale, jumped upon the stage. His black hair was tossed all over his head, and his black eyes were rolling wildly. Thus much all the spectators saw at a glance. The strange man's first intention appeared to be to dash at the happy couple; but, if so, he checked himself, and, standing at a distance of four feet from them, uttered these words: "Scoundrel! what are you doing with my wife there?" The man's whole figure could be seen to tremble.