"Serenissimo, the palazzo is on fire, or the old Doges have risen from
their tombs! There are lights in the windows of the upper floor!"

Prince Emilio fancied that his dream was realized by the touch of a
magic wand. It was dusk, and the old gondolier could by tying up his
gondola to the top step, help his young master to land without being
seen by the bustling servants in the palazzo, some of whom were
buzzing about the landing-place like bees at the door of a hive.
Emilio stole into the great hall, whence rose the finest flight of
stairs in all Venice, up which he lightly ran to investigate the cause
of this strange bustle.

A whole tribe of workmen were hurriedly completing the furnishing and
redecoration of the palace. The first floor, worthy of the antique
glories of Venice, displayed to Emilio's waking eyes the magnificence
of which he had just been dreaming, and the fairy had exercised
admirable taste. Splendor worthy of a parvenu sovereign was to be seen
even in the smallest details. Emilio wandered about without remark
from anybody, and surprise followed on surprise.

Curious, then, to know what was going forward on the second floor, he
went up, and found everything finished. The unknown laborers,
commissioned by a wizard to revive the marvels of the Arabian nights
in behalf of an impoverished Italian prince, were exchanging some
inferior articles of furniture brought in for the nonce. Prince Emilio
made his way into the bedroom, which smiled on him like a shell just
deserted by Venus. The room was so charmingly pretty, so daintily
smart, so full of elegant contrivance, that he straightway seated
himself in an armchair of gilt wood, in front of which a most
appetizing cold supper stood ready, and, without more ado, proceeded