on, while, whether a lover's suit was accepted or not, the procuress got
something out of him.

I recognized Signora Roccolini as soon as I saw her, but as twenty years
had elapsed since our last meeting she did not wonder at my appearing not
to know her, and made no efforts to refresh my memory. Her brother was
called Montellato, and he it was who tried to assassinate me one night in
St. Mark's Square, as I was leaving the Ridotto. The plot that would have
cost me my life, if I had not made my escape from the window, was laid in
the Roccolini's house.

She welcomed me as a fellow-countryman in a strange land, told me of her
struggles, and added that now she had an easy life of it, and associated
with the pleasantest ladies in St. Petersburg.

"I am astonished that you have not met the fair Madame Prote at the chief
huntsman's, for she is the darling of his heart. Come and take coffee
with me to-morrow, and you shall see a wonder."

I kept the appointment, and I found the lady even more beautiful than the
Venetian's praises of her had led me to expect. I was dazzled by her
beauty, but not being a rich man I felt that I must set my wits to work
if I wanted to enjoy her. I asked her name, though I knew it quite well,
and she replied, "Prote."

"I am glad to hear it, madam," said I, "for you thereby promise to be
mine."

"How so?" said she, with a charming smile. I explained the pun, and made
her laugh. I told her amusing stories, and let her know the effect that