honor of a visit. His aristocratic officers also frequented our house,
among them Don Luis d'Avila, a nobleman of ancient family, who was one of
the duke's favorites. Like the Marquis d'Avennes, he was no longer in
his early youth, but was a man of totally different stamp; tall,
strong as if hammered from steel, a soldier of invincible strength and
skill, a most dreaded seeker of quarrels, but a man whose glowing eyes
and wonderful gift of song must have exerted a mysterious, bewitching
power over women. Dozens of adventures, in which he was said to have
taken part, were told in the servant's hall and half of them had some
foundation of truth, as I afterwards learned by experience. If you
suppose this heart-breaker bore any resemblance to the gay, curly-haired
minions of fortune, on whom young ladies lavish their love, you are
mistaken; Don Luis was a grave man with close-cut hair, who never wore
anything but dark clothes, and even carried a sword, whose hilt, instead
of gold and silver, consisted of blackened metal. He resembled death
much more than blooming love. Perhaps this very thing made him
irresistible, since we are all born for death and no suitor is so sure of
victory as he.

"The padrona had not been favorably disposed to him at first, but this
mood soon changed, and at New Year's he too was admitted to small evening
receptions of intimate friends. He came whenever we invited him, but had
no word, no look, scarcely a greeting for our young lady. Only when it
pleased the signorina to sing, he went near her and sharply criticised
anything in her execution that chanced to displease him. He often sang
himself too, and then usually chose the same songs as Fraulein Anna, as
if to surpass her by his superior skill.

"So things went on till the time of the carnival. On Shrove-Tuesday the
padrona gave a large entertainment, and when I led the servants and stood