re necessary to
get poor Marianna away from her hateful uncle, let the cost be what it
might.

Signor Pasquale forgot his trouble in being received so affectionately
by his lovely niece, which was indeed more than he deserved. He
simpered and pursed up his lips so that his moustache was all of a
totter, and groaned and whined, not with pain, but simply and solely
with amorous longing.

Antonio arranged his bed professionally, and, after Capuzzi had been
laid on it, tightened the bandage still more, at the same time so
muffling up his left leg as well that he had to lay there motionless
like a log of wood. Salvator withdrew and left the lovers alone with
their happiness.

The old gentleman lay buried in cushions; moreover, as an extra
precaution, Antonio had bound a thick piece of cloth well steeped in
water round his head, so that he might not hear the lovers whispering
together. This was the first time they unburdened all their hearts to
each other, swearing eternal fidelity in the midst of tears and
rapturous kisses. The old gentleman could have no idea of what was
going on, for Marianna ceased not, frequently from time to time, to ask
him how he felt, and even permitted him to press her little white hand
to his lips.

When the morning began to be well advanced, Antonio hastened away to
procure, as he said, all the things that the old gentleman required,
but in reality to invent some means for putting him, at any rate for
some hours, in a still more helpless condition, as well as to consult
with Salvator what further steps were then to be taken.

IV.

_Of the new attack made by Salvator Rosa and Antonio Scacciati upon
Signer Pasquale Capuzzi and upon his company, and of what further
happens in consequence._

Next morning Antonio came to Salvator, melancholy and dejected.

"Well, what's the matter?" cried Salvator when he saw him coming, "what
are you hanging your head about? What's happened to you now, you happy
dog? can you not see your mistress every day, and kiss her and press
her to your heart?"

"Oh! Salvator, it's all over with my happiness, it's gone for ever,"
cried Antonio. "The devil is making sport of me. Our stratagem has
failed, and we now stand on a footing of open enmity with that cursed
Capuzzi."

"So much the better," said Salvator; "so much the better. But come,
Antonio, tell me what's happened."

"Just imagine, Salvator," began Antonio, "yesterda