It was the 12th of February. The day was very cold and northern-like, but withal very bright. The Princess, her suite and servants, took their seats in several carriages. At the Church of San Carlo she distributed rich alms to the poor, and then, followed by a whole crowd of artists and nobles, and amidst the cries and shouts of the populace, who ran after her, waving hats and caps, she left Rome. At the town gates, she signed her name in the books as Countess Selinski. She took the Florentine route. I galloped in front, while Christianok followed closely behind her. On the 16th of February the Princess arrived at Bologna. The count was not in town; he was awaiting her in his more retired palace of Pisa. The noisy train and crowd of servants following the Princess, and amounting to several dozens of people, exceedingly astonished the count. However, he received his visitor very respectfully and cordially, appointed her a splendid apartment, not far from his own, surrounded her with every comfort possible, and at all times conducted himself as a most faithful subject, never even, before strangers, sitting down in her presence. Strange things began to happen. What the count said to the Princess, what negotiations passed between them, no one of course knew. We could only surmise--as we did very soon--that a most hazardous game of love was being played. And, indeed, the Princess soon afterwards removed from her own apartment to that of the count, while her retinue and servants remained where they were. Christianok, ever since the arrival of the Princess, constantly tried to put me in the shade. He exalted his own services, as though the whole success of the plot was due to him alone. Of course my pride would only allow me to look upon all this with contempt. The count could see for himself that it was to my influence alone that he owed the arrival of the Princess.