was
deceiving them in concert with the Viceroy. In vain he sought to appease
them. The tumult increased. Suddenly Masaniello sprang upon the Duke. It
was said that he had once received blows instead of gold from one of his
servants when he had sold fish at his palace. Perhaps it is only one of
the many fables that are attached to the name of the fisherman of
Amalfi. Amid wild imprecations he seized the reins of his horse, took
hold of the knight by his belt and long hair, tore him from the saddle
with the assistance of his followers, and caused his hands to be tightly
bound together by a rope; then he delivered the prisoner to Domenico
Perrone and his associate Bernardino Grasso, to be strictly guarded.

The last remnant of personal respect for the nobility which the populace
had preserved on earlier occasions in the midst of all their
disturbances, had now quite disappeared. The hand of Masaniello had torn
asunder the tie of centuries of habit. The Viceroy was dreadfully
shocked when he knew the danger into which Maddaloni had fallen for his
sake. He sent the prior of the Johannites, Fra Gregorio Carafa, brother
of the Prince of Roccella, and afterward grand master of Malta to try
and obtain the freedom of the Duke. The sensible and placable words of
the prior were as useless as his promises: the populace only answered
him by screaming for the privileges of Charles V; for the privileges, in
gold characters, which Giulio Genuino affirmed that he had seen.
Gregorio Carafa felt himself in the same danger as Maddaloni, and
returned to the castle without having accomplished anything; but the
populace swore that they would allow no parliament which did not deliver
up the document.

Masaniello's prisoner did not remain long in confinement. The man into
whose charge he had been committed was under old obligations to him. He
conducted him into the convent of the Carmelites and confined him in one
of the cells; but when the night came he favored his flight. Diomed
Carafa escaped out of the convent in disguise--the fearful tumult and
the drunkenness of the people were favorable to him. Unrecognized he
gained his liberty; he ascended to the foot of the heights of Capo di
Monte, which overlook Naples and its gulf. He wandered to the farmhouse
of Chiajano, a considerable distance from the town; here he met a
physician who was riding home after visiting a rich man, and he borrowed
his horse.

Thus, toward the dawn of day, crossing