A slight noise near him made him look up, and he started as he met the fiery black eyes of his young countryman. "Eccolo!" cried Giraldi, stretching out his hand with his most bewitching smile; "how did you get here, my boy!" "There was a lack of dancing-men," answered Antonio, pressing the offered hand to his heart; "the maestro was desired to bring a few young artists with him, and was good enough to think of me." "And why are you not dancing?" "I have not the happiness of being acquainted with so many beautiful young ladies as Eccellenza." Giraldi smiled, whilst he turned over in his own mind whether Antonio could have recognised in Bertalda the veiled lady who came to see Ferdinanda. It was extremely improbable, but he must give some explanation of his intimate conversation with the pretty girl. "Do you envy me my happiness, Antonio?" he asked. "I do not grudge Eccellenza his happiness. Who can deserve it better?" answered Antonio, with fawning humility. "And since you are modest, you will be happier than all the gold in the world can make me. You are young and handsome, and--you love; and that your love may be crowned with success, you have but to leave it to me and Brother Ambrosio. We are both busy on your behalf. Have a little patience only, and your probation will be ended, and you will have everything your heart can wish for--yes, more than you have dreamed of in your wildest dreams; but, above all, revenge--the most brilliant, triumphant, heart-stirring revenge--upon your enemy! I swear it to you by the Sacred Heart and the Holy Virgin!" The two Italians crossed themselves. "And now, my boy, I will talk to you in a few days. For to-day forget the cares of love, and pluck the rose of pleasure, without wounding yourself with the thorns." He pointed towards the ball-room, again pressed Antonio's hand, and went.