not cost as much as a mortal wound."

"The wound must be mortal, signor."

"And who is your enemy? A nobleman or a common citizen? Rich or poor?"

"He is a nobleman, signor, and the possessor of an ample fortune."

"A nobleman? And who are you, who make yourself responsible for payment?"

"I am a poor servant out of service."

The ruffian smiled incredulously.

"Ah!" said he, ironically, "a poor servant out of service! Come, throw
back your hood. You have red hair; you often play at dice; your name is
Julio; you live near the bridge _De la Vigne_ with the Signor Simon
Turchi. Is not that true? You were trying to deceive me."

Julio, thus unexpectedly recognized, was mute from astonishment, and,
trembling from head to foot, stared at the ruffian, who did not appear in
the least displeased, but said, in an encouraging tone:

"Be calm; you need not be disturbed because I know who you are. My trade
is to keep the most important affairs secret. Fear nothing, I will not
betray you."

It was some minutes before Julio had recovered himself sufficiently to
speak.

"I am sorry that you know my name," said he; "but no matter. I desire to
know, Signor Bufferio, what price you demand for ridding me forever of my
enemy?"

"Your enemy?" said the ruffian, laughing. "A gentleman your enemy? You are
still endeavoring to deceive me. You mean your master's enemy?"

"No, my personal enemy, who has calumniated me to my master, and who has
striven to have me ignominiously discharged."

"And you offer me golden crowns? How long is it since servants became
possessed of such treasures? You request to have a mortal wound inflicted
upon a gentleman? Well, you must give me fifteen gold crowns."

"Fifteen crowns!" exclaimed Julio, with assumed astonishment. "So large a
sum! I do not own that much."

"Then pay me twelve; but it must be in advance, before I strike the blow."

"I will pay you immediately, before leaving."

"Give me your hand, Julio; it is a bargain. Now tell me exactly what you
or your master requires of me."

"Not my master: I alone."

"It is all the same. What am I to do, and when is it to be done?"

"This very night, Bufferio."

"To-night? This will oblige me to renounce my game with the Portuguese
sailor; and yet I might have won some gold pieces there."

"Listen, Signor Bufferio. To-night, at eleven o'clock, a young nobleman,
accompanied by two lute-players, will come from the direction of the
convent