He tossed his hat on the bed and made for the Italian's door. He did not wait to knock, but broke in noisily. The accordion stopped with a prolonged wail; its owner rose, visibly frightened. "Ah!" cried the Italian, "it is you! I am glad of that. See, I have not left the house for three days." There was a genial simplicity about the man; Suvaroff felt overcome with confusion. "What is the matter? Are you ill?" he stammered, closing the door. "No. I am afraid to go out. There is somebody waiting for me. Tell me, did you see a cripple standing on the corner, near Bollo's Wine Shop, as you came in?" Suvaroff reflected. "Well, not a cripple, exactly. But I saw a hunchback with--with--" "Yes! yes!" cried the other, excitedly. "A hunchback with a handsome face! That is he! I am afraid of him. For three days he has sat there, waiting!" "For you? How absurd! Why should any one do such a ridiculous thing?" The Italian slipped his hands from the accordion and laid it aside. "Nobody but one who is mad would do it, but he is mad. There is no doubt about that!" Suvaroff began to feel irritated. "What are you talking about? Have you lost your senses? If he is waiting for you, why do you not go out and send him away? Go out and pay him what you owe him." The Italian rose and began to shudder. "I owe him nothing. He is waiting for me--_to kill me_!" "Nonsense!" cried Suvaroff. "What is his reason?" "He is waiting to kill me because I laughed at him." "That is ridiculous!" said Suvaroff. "Nevertheless, it is true," replied the Italian. "He kills every one who laughs at him. Three days ago I laughed at him. But I ran away. He followed me. He does not know where I lodge, but he has wit enough to understand that if he waits long enough he will find me out. In Heaven's name, my friend, can you not help me? See, I am a simple soul. I cannot think quickly. I have prayed to the Virgin, but it is no use. Tell me, what can I do to escape?" "Why do you not see a policeman?" The Italian let his hands fall hopelessly. "A policeman? What good would that do? Even _you_ do not believe me!" A chill seized Suvaroff. He began to shake, and in the next instant a fever burned his cheeks. His head was full of little darting pains. He turned away from the Italian, impatiently. "You must be a pretty sort of man to let a little hunchback frighten you! Good night." And with that Suvaroff went out, slamming the door. When Suvaroff got to his room he felt dizzy. He threw himself on the bed and lay for some time in a stupor. When he came to his senses again the first sound to greet him was the wail of his neighbor's accordion. "What a fool I am!" he muttered. "Here I go bursting into this Italian's room for the purpose of asking him to quit his abominable noise, and I listen like a dumb sheep to _his_ bleatings, and so forget my errand!"