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THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO
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and, as in Callot's Temptation of St. Anthony, a lovely face is exhibited, which we would fain follow, but from which we are separated by troops of fiends—and this will give a faint idea of the Carnival at Rome.

At the second turn the count stopped the carnage, and requested permission to quit them, leaving the vehicle at their disposal. Franz looked up—they were opposite the Bospoli Palace. At the center window, the one hung with white damask with a red cross, was a blue domino, beneath which Franz's imagination easily pictured the beautiful Greek of the Argentina.

"Gentlemen," said the count, springing out, "when you are tired of being actors, and wish to become spectators of this scene, you know you have places at my windows. In the meantime, dispose of my coachman, my carriage, and my servants."

We have forgotten to mention, that the count's coachman was attired in a black bear-skin, exactly resembling Odry's in The Bear and tin-Pasha; and the two footmen behind were dressed up as green monkeys, with spring masks, with which they made grimaces at every one who passed.

Franz thanked the count for his attention. As for Albert, he was busily occupied throwing bouquets at a carriage full of Roman peasants that had come to a stop, like the count's, through a block in the line.

Unfortunately for him, the line of carnages moved on again, and whilst he descended the Piazza del Popolo, the other ascended toward the Palazzo di Venezia.

"Ah! my dear fellow!" said he to Franz; "did you not see?"

"What?"

"There,—that caleche filled with Roman peasants."

"No."

"Well, I am convinced that they are all charming women."

"How unfortunate you were masked, Albert!" said Franz; "here was an opportunity of making up for past disappointments."

"Oh!" replied he, half laughing, half serious; "I hope the carnival will not pass without some amends in one shape or the other."

But, in spite of Albert's hope, the day passed unmarked by any incident, excepting meeting two or three times the caleche with the Roman peasants. At one of these encounters, accidently or purposely, Albert's mask fell off.

He instantly rose and cast the remainder of the bouquets into the carriage. Doubtless one of the charming females Albert had divined beneath their coquettish disguise was touched by his gallantly; for, in her turn, as the carriage of the two friends passed her, she threw a bunch of violets into it. Albert seized it, and as Franz had no reason to