"Ah, Salvator!" answered Antonio; "it is all over with my happiness. The devil delights in making me the sport of his tricks. Our plots have all come to nothing, and we are at open war with the accursed Capuzzi." "So much the better! so much the better!" said Salvator. "But tell me what has been happening." "Just imagine, Salvator," said Antonio. "When, yesterday, I was going back to Strada Ripetta, after I had been gone about two hours, bringing all sorts of essences, &c., there I saw the old gentleman standing at his door, completely dressed. At his back were the Pyramid Doctor, and the accursed Sbirro, whilst there was some little many-coloured object running in and out amongst their legs; this, I believe, was that little abortion of a Pitichinaccio. As soon as the old fellow saw me he menaced me with his fist, uttered the most gruesome curses and maledictions, and swore he would have every bone in my body broken if I dared to come to his door. 'Be off with you to all the devils in Hell, cursed Beard-scratcher!' he croaked and screamed at me. 'You thought to make a fool of me, with all sorts of infernal lies and deceptions; you have striven like the very Satan himself to tempt and mislead my Marianna. But wait a little. I will spend my last farthing, if necessary, in getting your life-light snuffed out before you are aware of it. And as for your fine patron, Signor Salvator--the murderer, the robber, the cheat-the-gallows!--he shall to hell to join his leader, Mas' Aniello. Him I'll get kicked out of Rome; that won't give me much trouble.' Thus did the old man rave; and as the cursed Sbirro, egged on by the Pyramid Doctor, made as if he would set on me and attack me, whilst the curious populace began to crowd round, what could I do but get off as quickly as possible? In my despair I thought I should not come to you, for I felt certain you would only laugh--and in fact you hardly can help doing so at this moment." Indeed, when Antonio ceased speaking, Salvator did laugh heartily. "Now," he cried, "now the affair is really beginning to become most delightful. But I shall now tell you, circumstantially, my dear Antonio, what happened in Capuzzi's house when you had gone out. Scarcely had you got down-stairs, when Signor Splendiano Accoramboni--who, heaven knows how, had found out that his bosom friend Capuzzi had broken his leg in the night--came, in the most solemn state, to see him, bringing a surgeon with him. Your bandagings, and your whole treatment of Capuzzi, could not but excite some suspicion; the surgeon took the splints and bandages off, and of course found--what we know very well--that there was nothing whatever the matter with Capuzzi's foot; not so much as a sprained ankle. Very well; it did not require much acuteness to find out the rest." "My dearest Maestro," asked Antonio, full of amazement, "how on earth did you manage to find out all this?--how could you get into Capuzzi's house, and know all that went on?"