one might have expected to meet with some English lady in a green veil,
(all English ladies, who travel, wear green veils,) whose carriage had
been attacked, and herself carried off on the road from Florence to Rome.
But M. Dumas scorns such commonplace _dramatis personae_, and is satisfied
with nothing less than transporting a French ballet-dancer into the
Appenines, with all her paraphernalia of gauze drapery, tinsel decorations,
and opera airs and graces; not forgetting the orchestra, in the person of
the luckless bass player. Yet so ingeniously does he dovetail it all
together, so probable does he make his improbabilities appear, that we
become almost reconciled to the idea of finding Mademoiselle Zephyrine
Taglionizing away upon the filthy floor of a mountain _osteria_, and are
inclined to be astonished that the spectators should not be provided with
bouquets to throw at her upon the conclusion of her performance.

Several days are passed in running from one place to the other, always
followed by the hussars, from whom the banditti have some narrow escapes.
M. Louet is taken great care of in consideration of his skill as a
musician, and he on his part takes all imaginable care of his bass, which
he looks upon as a sort of a safeguard. At length they arrive at the
castle of Anticoli, a villa which the captain rents from a Roman nobleman,
and where he considers himself in perfect safety. Here M. Louet is
installed in a magnificent apartment, where he finds linen and clothes, of
which he is much in need. His toilet completed, he is conducted to the
drawing-room by a livery servant, who bears a strong resemblance to one of
his friends the banditti. But we will let him tell his story in his own
words.

"There were three persons in the room into which I was ushered; a young
lady, a very elegantly dressed man, and a French officer. I thought there
must be some mistake, and was walking backwards out of the apartment, when