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54 feeling on the subject is, that Monaldeschi, the cavalier in question, dined with me the very day of his murder, as I must call it. Such a gay dinner as we had! for Monaldeschi—lively, unscrupulous, and sarcastic—was a most amusing companion. His spirits, far higher than his usual bearing, carried us all along with them; and I remember saying to him, 'I envy your gaiety; why, Monaldeschi, you are as joyous as if there were nothing but sunshine in the world.' He changed countenance, and becoming suddenly grave, exclaimed, 'Do not call me back to myself. I feel an unaccountable vivacity, which I know is the herald of disaster.' But again he became cheerful, and we rallied him on the belief, which he still gaily maintained, that great spirits were the sure forerunners of misfortune. 'Well,' was my answer, 'I should like mine to be so announced.' The dessert was being put down, when a messenger came from the palace, and commanded his immediate attendance on his queen. He turned pale as death, but prepared to obey the summons; and, taking up a glass, filled it with wine. The slender Venetian glass shivered in his hand before he could raise it to his lips. 'Are you superstitious, Count?' asked some one at the table; 'the delicate crystal of Venice is said to