hey are!
The dice are rolling upon the table. Shall I not risk a shilling? Only
one?"

Yielding to the irresistible temptation, he placed his foot upon the
ladder; but a sudden thought seemed to arrest him. He sprang back,
trembling, and hastened from the cellar. A little farther in the street he
stopped and murmured in an anxious voice:

"Heavens! what was I about to do? Risk the money upon dice? I would
certainly have lost the whole. Pietro Mostajo, do not forget the
Superintendent of Lucca! I am saved. Infernal temptation! I was about to
stake my head. But, perhaps, I would not be unlucky. I might win a
fortune. The temptation returns. No, no, I must go seek Bufferio, and I
have no time to lose. He lives yonder: a low dark door beside the pump."

As he said these last words, he proceeded down the alley, but soon stopped
near the pump, and said in an undertone:

"Bufferio lives here. How dark it is! I can hardly see the door; but I am
not mistaken. Here the terrible ruffian has his lair. Strange, how I
tremble! Perhaps it is a warning of some misfortune about to happen to me!
Suppose they should take my money and murder me to conceal the theft. What
shall I do? Shall I tell my master that I could not find Bufferio? Alas!
the Superintendent of Lucca!"

After a moment of anxious thought he walked towards the low door, saying,
with a sigh:

"Come, come; I can do nothing else. Of two evils choose the least!"

Although his words indicated an energetic resolution, his hand trembled as
he raised the knocker of the little door and twice let it fall.

It gave out a deep hollow sound, as though it were the door of a vault for
the dead.

A long time passed, and no noise within gave evidence that his call was
heeded.

The visitor became still more terrified in the supposition, that no one
was in the house, and that consequently he would be obliged to return,
without concluding the affair, to his master, who would not believe him.

In the little dark door was a small opening, protected by a grating.
Behind the iron bars two eyes were fixed on the person who had knocked,
and if he had been left apparently unnoticed, it was probably because two
inquisitive eyes endeavored to pierce the darkness in order to recognize
the untimely visitor.

A harsh voice at last asked from behind the grating:

"Who knocked?"

The man in the cloak started back. The unexpected question so close to his
ear made him tremble violently. Ho