"Then let us wait until to-morrow; and we can then see it." "Yes! and then everybody will have seen it--and it will not be worth seeing!" As the beautiful tempter passed her companion, and knelt beside the case, her figure looked like that of Psyche, bending on the couch of Cupid. "If we should not be able to open it after all!" said the bride, half fearful, half laughing. "We will--depend on me," said the other, anxious and excited. "I know the secret of these Spanish chests. My father has one--they are common now in Venice--the spring is concealed--but once know the situation of it--as I do--and it is simple." "But--I tremble all over!" "Why, what nonsense!" "But--I'll go away if you don't stop." "But only think how we shall laugh at Lavinia and Euryanthe! Now--hold the taper. It is but one touch. Now--I have it. There!--do you see?--Now--Amina--now--hold here--help me while I lift the lid----" * * * * * Within the chest there lay a skeleton--stretched at its length, and bleached to whiteness. There was a jewel mocked one of the bony fingers; and a corslet of mail enclosed the trunk. And the right hand clutched--as though yet in question--a long and massive dagger. Its handle was of gold embossed; its blade was of the manufacture of Damascus. And on that blade, though rusted here and there, were characters which still appeared distinctly. Their pale brightness flashed as the light of the taper fell upon them; they formed the name--and they told the fortunes--of DI VASARI. SIGISMUND FATELLO. BY FREDERICK HARDMAN [_MAGA._ DECEMBER 1848.] CHAPTER I. THE OPERA.