He is the antithesis of Abbatemaggio, who has an insolent confidence and braggadocio about him that carry with them a certain first-hand impression of sincerity. In fact, the fiery little black-haired coachman has proved so convincing to the public that the Camorrists have been driven to allege that he is mad. He gives no indication of madness, however, although the government, to refute any such contention, has an alienist, Professor Otto Lenghi, in court to keep him under constant surveillance. His memory is astonishing and uncannily accurate. His mind works with marvellous rapidity, and had he been born in a different environment he would have made his mark in almost any line that he might have chosen. He has all the instincts and tricks of the actor, is a master of repartee, extremely witty, with a tongue like a razor, and delights the spectators with his sallies and impertinences. Altogether Abbatemaggio is the centre of attraction at Viterbo—and knows it. He makes the court wait on his health and convenience, and has evidently made up his mind that, if his life is to be short, he will at least make it as merry as possible. Naturally he is a sort of popular idol, and a _confronto_ in which he is one of the participants draws a crowd of the townspeople, who applaud his gibes and epigrams and jeer at his Camorrist opponent. On the afternoon of the Rapi-Abbatemaggio _confronto_ the “Professor” arose with great dignity, bowed low to the court and jury, folded his hands over his stomach, and faced the audience with an air of patient resignation. Then the captain of carabinieri unlocked Abbatemaggio’s cage, and the little coachman sprang to his feet, gave a twirl to his moustache and a contemptuous glance at Rapi as if to say, “Look at the old faker! See how I shall show him up!” With an attitude respectful toward the court and scornful toward Rapi, he takes his stand by the _procuratore del re_ and awaits his antagonist’s attack. The “Professor” accosts him gently, almost pathetically. Abbatemaggio answers in cold, unsympathetic tones that tell the spectators that they must not be deceived by the oily address of this arch-conspirator. But Rapi, with his magnificent voice, is a foe to be reckoned with, and presently he enters upon a denunciation of the informer that is distinctly eloquent and full of vehement sarcasm. Abbatemaggio flushes and interrupts him, the “Professor” attempts to proceed, but the little coachman sweeps him out of the way and pours forth a rapid-fire volley of Neapolitan dialect in which he accuses Rapi of being a hypocrite and a liar and a man who lives on the criminality of others, referring specifically to various enterprises in which they have both been engaged as partners. He pauses for breath, and Rapi plunges in, contradicting, denouncing, and accusing in turn. The prisoners by interjectory exclamations show their approval. “Sh-sh-sh!” remarks _il presidente_, raising a finger.