He left me weeping, and I pitied him, but at the same time I was sorry
that he had made me the depositary of his secret. A few hours after I
called on Madame Binetti, and she told me the histories of all the
artistes in London. When she came to the Calori she told me that she had
had several lovers out of whom she had made a great deal, but at present
she had no lover, unless it were the violinist Giardini, with whom she
was in love in earnest.

"Where does she come from?"

"From Vicenza."

"Is she married?"

"I don't think so."

I thought no more of this wretched business, but three or four days later
I had a letter from King's Bench Prison. It was from Constantini. The
poor wretch said I was the only friend he had in London, and that he
hoped I would come and see him, were it only to give him some advice.

I thought it my duty to accede to his request, and I went to the prison,
where I found the poor man in a wretched state, with an old English
attorney, who spoke a little bad Italian, and was known to me.

Constantini had been arrested the day before on account of several bills
drawn by his wife which had not been taken up. By these bills she
appeared in debt to the amount of a thousand guineas. The attorney had
got the five bills, and he was trying to make some arrangements with the
husband.

I saw at once that the whole thing was a scandalous swindle, for Madame
Binetti had told me that the Calori was very rich. I begged the attorney
to leave me alone with the prisoner, as I wanted to have some private
conversation with him.

"They have arrested me for my wife's debts," said he, "and they tell me I
must pay them because I am her husband."

"It's a trick your wife has played on you; she must have found out you
were in London."

"She saw me through the window."

"Why did you delay putting your project into execution?"

"I meant to carry it out this morning, but how was I to know that she had
debts?"

"Nor has she any debts; these bills are shams. They must have been
ante-dated, for they were really executed yesterday. It's a bad business,
and she may have to pay dearly for it."

"But in the meanwhile I am in prison."

"Never mind, trust to me, I will see you again tomorrow."

This scurvy trick had made me angry, and I made up my mind to take up the
poor man's cause. I went to Bosanquet, who told me that the device was a
very common one in London, but that people had found out the way to
defe