told him where her future husband lived, and that the worthy
monk had obtained her mother's consent to the hundred crowns being spent
on her trousseau.

I noticed that Momolo's second daughter had taken a fancy to Costa, and I
told Momolo that I was going to Naples, but that I would leave my man in
Rome, and that if I found a marriage had been arranged on my return I
would gladly pay the expenses of the wedding.

Costa liked the girl, but he did not marry her then for fear of my
claiming the first-fruits. He was a fool of a peculiar kind, though fools
of all sorts are common enough. He married her a year later after robbing
me, but I shall speak of that again.

Next day, after I had breakfasted and duly embraced my brother, I set out
in a nice carriage with the Abbe Alfani, Le Duc preceding me on
horseback, and I reached Naples at a time when everybody was in a state
of excitement because an eruption of Vesuvius seemed imminent. At the
last stage the inn-keeper made me read the will of his father who had
died during the eruption of 1754. He said that in the year 1761 God would
overwhelm the sinful town of Naples, and the worthy host consequently
advised me to return to Rome. Alfani took the thing seriously, and said
that we should do well to be warned by so evident an indication of the
will of God. The event was predicted, therefore it had to happen. Thus a
good many people reason, but as I was not of the number I proceeded on my
way.

CHAPTER IX

My Short But Happy Stay at Naples--The Duke de Matalone My
Daughter--Donna Lucrezia--My Departure

I shall not, dear reader, attempt the impossible, however much I should
like to describe the joy, the happiness, I may say the ecstasy, which I
experienced in returning to Naples, of which I had such pleasant
memories, and where, eighteen years ago, I had made my first fortune in
returning from Mataro. As I had come there for the second time to keep a
promise I had made to the Duke de Matalone to come and see him at Naples,
I ought to have visited this nobleman at once; but foreseeing that from
the time I did so I should have little liberty left me, I began by
enquiring after all my old friends.

I walked out early in the morning and called on Belloni's agent. He
cashed my letter of credit and gave me as many bank-notes as I liked,
promising that nobody should know that we did business together. From the
bankers I went to see Antonio Casanova, but they tol