The surprise, the amazement, and the perplexity of the count and his son
were an amusing picture. The loving father begged me to excuse him, with
tears in his eyes, telling me to place myself in his position. My only
answer was to embrace him most affectionately.

The man who had recognized me was a noted pimp whom I had thrashed some
time before for having deceived me. If I had not been there just in time
to take care of the young countess, she would not have escaped him, and
he would have ruined her for ever by taking her to some house of
ill-fame.

The result of the meeting was that the count agreed to postpone his
application to the Council of Ten until Steffani's place of refuge should
be discovered.

"I have not seen Steffani for six months, sir," I said to the count, "but
I promise you to kill him in a duel as soon as he returns."

"You shall not do it," answered the young count, very coolly, "unless he
kills me first."

"Gentlemen," exclaimed M. de Bragadin, "I can assure you that you will
neither of you fight a duel with him, for Steffani is dead."

"Dead!" said the count.

"We must not," observed the prudent Barbaro, "take that word in its
literal sense, but the wretched man is dead to all honour and
self-respect."