of too great ardor, 'she does not know the sort of domination to which
she is about to become subject. Her caprice will last, I trust, as
long as my life.'

"At that moment, three light taps on the door of his box attracted the
artist's attention. He opened the door. An old woman entered with an
air of mystery.

"'Young man,' she said, 'if you wish to be happy, be prudent. Wrap
yourself in a cloak, pull a broad-brimmed hat over your eyes, and be
on the Rue du Corso, in front of the Hotel d'Espagne, about ten
o'clock to-night.'

"'I will be there,' he replied, putting two louis in the duenna's
wrinkled hand.

"He rushed from his box, after a sign of intelligence to La
Zambinella, who lowered her voluptuous eyelids modestly, like a woman
overjoyed to be understood at last. Then he hurried home, in order to
borrow from his wardrobe all the charms it could loan him. As he left
the theatre, a stranger grasped his arm.

"'Beware, Signor Frenchman,' he said in his ear. 'This is a matter of
life and death. Cardinal Cicognara is her protector, and he is no
trifler.'

"If a demon had placed the deep pit of hell between Sarrasine and La
Zambinella, he would have crossed it with one stride at that moment.
Like the horses of the immortal gods described by Homer, the
sculptor's love had traversed vast spaces in a twinkling.