midnight
`` Addio ! '' And without further words he hurried off , and tossing a twenty-franc piece to the sleepy hotel porter who was holding Ruspardi 's horse outside , he flung himself into the saddle and galloped away . Ruspardi , young and hotblooded , was of too mercurial a disposition to anticipate any really serious results of the night 's adventure ; -- his contempt for a coward was far greater than his fear of death , and he was delighted to think that in all probability the Marquis would use his riding-whip on Miraudin 's back rather than honour him by a pistol shot . And so dismissing all fears from his mind he took Fontenelle 's letters in his charge , and went straight out of the hotel singing gaily , charmed with the exciting thought of the midnight chase which was going on , and the possible drubbing and discomfiture of the `` celebrated '' Miraudin . Meanwhile , under the flashing stars , and through the sleeping streets of Rome , the Marquis galloped with almost breakneck haste . He was a daring rider , and the spirited animal he bestrode soon discovered the force of his governing touch , -- the resolve of his urging speed . He went by the Porta Pia , remembering Ruspardi 's hurried description of the route taken by the runaway actor , and felt , rather than saw the outline of the Villa Torlonia , as he rushed past , and the Basilica of St. Agnese Fuori le Mura , which is supposed to cover the tomb of the child-martyr St. Agnes , -- then across the Ponte Nomentano , till , two miles further on , in the white radiance of the moon , he perceived , driving rapidly ahead of him , the vehicle of which he was in pursuit .