"’On your word of honour?’ "’An impudent little dog! Yes. Away!—when _you_ fetch me such a sum, per Baccho! you shall have your father’s head: but not till then.’ "’Enough, excellency: I will redeem it, and keep my word. San Gennaro judge between us, and curse the wretch who fails!’ "’A bold little rogue, and deserves the old villain’s head for nothing,’ muttered the prince. ’Two thousand scudi! Ah, poor boy! where will he ever get such a sum?’ "The prince soon forgot all about it; but Baptistello, inspired by that intense filial veneration for which our Calabrian youth are so famous, worked incessantly to raise the two thousand scudi—a mighty sum for him: but he did not despair. He dug in the vineyards and rice-fields by day, in the iron mines of Stilo by night, and begged in cities when he had nothing else to do; and slowly the required sum began to accumulate. When old enough to level the rifle, by his mother’s advice he took to his father’s haunts, and turned bandit. Then the gold increased rapidly; and, regularly as he acquired it, he transmitted the ill-gotten ransom to Ser Villani, of St. Eufemio: leaving the gold in the hollow of a certain tree, where the notary found it and left a full receipt for each amount. "When the two thousand pieces were numbered, Baptistello presented himself before Villani in the disguise of a Basilian, requesting him to pay Prince St. Agata the money and redeem the bare-bleached skull, which grins so horribly from the battlements of the Palazzo Zizi. They met at the porch of the great church, where the notary had just been hearing mass. He denied ever having received a quattrino of the money: not a single piece had he ever seen—’No, by the miraculous blood of Gennaro!’ "’Behold your signed receipts, Master Scrivano.’ "’Via! they are forgeries. Away, or I will summon the officers of justice.’ "’My two thousand scudi!—my hard-won money, earned at peril of my soul! Return it, thou most infamous of robbers!’ cried the infuriated Varro, grasping the notary’s throat and unsheathing his poniard. "’Help, in the name of the Grand Court!’ shrieked Villani. Baptistello was arrested, imprisoned in the fearful _Damusi_, and kept there for months; he was then scourged with rods, and thrust forth, naked and bleeding, to perish in the streets; while the money, earned with so much toil and danger, went to enrich the dishonest notary. Baptistello is on the mountains above us; and if Villani falls into his hands this night, Signor Cavaliere, thou mayest imagine the sequel." The improvisatore ceased, and I saw the keen twinkling eyes of the notary watching me: he must have heard the whole story, while affecting to sleep; and, trembling violently, he clutched his legal green bag. Suddenly some one tapped at the casement; and I saw a large, fierce and grim face peering in.