Here they seemed to have secured repose; but, as it turned out, of short duration, lasting only for the space of two months; for on the 22nd of October in the same year Panizzi received a slight message summoning him to the police office, where he accordingly attended. Hardly had he reached the door when he was arrested. Throughout all his misfortunes he seems not to have been without his share of good luck. The man who arrested him proved to be a friend, and by the aid of this kindly official he was enabled to jump out of a window, and again make his way for the frontier. It may not be uninteresting to mention here that this man afterwards became an Austrian spy. Many years later on, while Panizzi was on a journey to Italy, and had arrived at the frontier, some one approached the carriage and demanded his passport. It was, of course, handed over. On returning it the man said, “_Buon viaggio, Signor Panizzi!_” and he recognised his friend of the Brescello police-office. In the meantime, and before his arrest, the refugee, whose good luck it must be confessed was mainly owing to his sagacity and foresight, had taken care to provide himself with a passport. This, strange to say, he obtained duly endorsed, through a friend of Count Munarini, then Minister of Foreign Affairs. In addition to this passport, he had also armed himself with another document, almost equally useful. This was a pass, in the form usually given to labourers who wished to absent themselves for the day. With these papers in his possession he crossed the Po to Viadana, and, setting out from thence in company with Minzi, Zatti and Montani, arrived at Cremona, where he was recognised by the Austrian police-agent Ticino, who endeavoured to arrest his further progress. In this attempt, however, he failed; Panizzi’s passport being perfectly _en règle_. Nevertheless, he succeeded at the instigation of a notorious spy named Antonioli in robbing the fugitive of a portion of his luggage.