tailor by profession, yet whose powers of narration baffle my pen in the endeavour to describe the scene as he described it. The theme turned upon Don Diomed Carafa, the same who had wrested Masaniello's wife from him, and the fate which in the early hours of that very morning had been meted out to his younger brother Don Giuseppe.

The memory of Don Diomed, Duke of Maddaloni, haunted Masaniello like a spectre. He ordered his beautiful villa at Posilipo to be razed to the ground, and made the populace ransack once more his pillaged palace at Santa Maria della Stella. The barber of the Duke had thought to buy his life by revealing the whereabouts of hidden treasure; a few hours later he was the central figure of a bonfire, the CaptainGeneral standing by and witnessing his torment. A number of musicians had been flung into the sea and left to perish merely because they had once been in the service of Don Diomed. The new master of Naples himself, on the preceding evening, had repaired to the desolate palace of Carafa, and there, seated amid the ruins, had commanded a sumptuous banquet to be served him from a neighbouring convent. Whilst eating, some of his people brought thither two portraits, the one of Maddaloni, the other of Don Marzio, his father. Upon these he vented his childish rage, smashing the frames and cutting out the heads, which he caused to be placed on pikes and set in front of him. Later, he put on a suit of Carafa's clothes, of blue silk embroidered with silver, and fastened in his cap a diamond clasp, the property of his enemy; then threw himself upon a horse, drew forth his pistols with both hands, and threatening to shoot any one who approached him, or who showed himself at the windows, proceeded to the water's edge, where he divested himself of his raiment and in such guise returned to the unfinished banquet.

The Duke of Maddaloni, happily for his security, had fled in the direction of Piedimonte d'Alife. His younger brother, less endowed with foresight, had taken

refuge since the commencement of the revolution in the great Franciscan convent of Santa Maria la Nuova. Treachery that morning had betrayed his whereabouts to Masaniello.

The audience hung upon the speaker's words, as in a passionate burst of eloquence he unfolded the story of the tragedy.

A demand for the surrender of the fugitive had been met by a refusal. Undeterred by fear of sacrilege, the Captain-General announced his intention of setting fire to the convent.

Sacrilege! Those who have been to Naples need not to be told the effect produced upon his hearers as the voice of the crooked man sank to a whisper. A murmur of relief ran round when he continued.

A figure was seen convent, and in an at their head, were

In the very nick of time the cry had been raised that Don Giuseppe had escaped. slinking from a side-door of the instant the band, with Masaniello in pursuit.

The fugitive sprang

The chase was but a short one. into a cottage which was open and ran up the staircase. It was the miserable dwelling of a common courtesan. He promised her gold and she concealed him. But as Masaniello approached she called down from the window.

Don Giuseppe left his hiding-place, confronted the Captain-General and his followers. "Villano," he cried, "hai ardire di toccarmi, non sai forse chi io sono? Do you not know me, rabble?"

A heavy crucifix stood in a corner of the chamber. Beside himself with frenzy, Masaniello seized it, and as his victim, stabbed in a dozen places, sank before him, struck at the prostrate face with a fiendish yell of exultation. Once more the shout of sacrilege rose up. The Captain-General threw himself upon the body, tore it with his teeth, then, as his followers shrank back appalled, turned savagely upon them with the bespattered Ere they could interfere to hinder him he had

cross.

brained the courtesan. A terrible shout broke from him and he fell back laughing like a madman.

The crooked man ceased speaking. For a second longer there was silence. Then some one from behind called out: "He has a devil. I have heard it said that he has been seen emerging from the Casa della Sirena. The curse of Donna Anna is upon him."

I stayed to hear no more.

At the end of the street I saw the familiar figure of Salvator Rosa.

"Body of a dog!" he cried, when I came near him. "You look like one who has been plagued by ghosts or witches."

I told him what I had heard and he grunted noisily. "We cannot alter the way of destiny. Hark you, Kuno. At the far end of the Mergellina there lies a vessel well equipped and seaworthy."

I stared at him blankly and he mimicked me. "There is nothing like being prepared for an emergency. You have received the missive of the CaptainGeneral ?"

"Missive?" I questioned.

Ay, orders, if you find the term more suitable."

I failed to understand and said so. He shrugged his shoulders.

"The officer of the Cardinal's Guard delivered it in person. He carried a similar document addressed to you. I doubt not he has left it at your lodgings."

"If you would condescend to explain its tenor," I began, with some uneasiness.

"It is simple enough," he answered. "We are summoned to appear before the Captain-General to answer to a charge of gravity. Unfortunately Maso does not state its nature."

I looked to see if he was serious. Then, taking him aside, I related the tragedy of Ercole. He listened impassively, but I detected symptoms of anxiety.

"Had you consulted me," he said at length, "our little attempt at revolution might not have been attended with such peculiar consequences. There is scanty wisdom in a multitude of leaders." He stood

T

stroking his beard. "What is, is; what will be, will be. And my work has been neglected."

"But," I ventured, "this summons of Masaniello ? In his present frame of mind

He grasped me by the arm.

"You need have no fear, Kuno. If there is trouble, there also is the Mergellina. And forget not one thing: I am Il Signore."

He started humming provokingly some air or other. "You have ordered masses to be said for the repose of Ercole ?" he asked me quizzingly.

CHAPTER XXX

THE SEAT OF JUDGMENT

IF the summons to appear before the Captain-General was in itself sufficiently disquieting, even more so, to my mind, was the exaggerated flippancy with which Salvator Rosa affected to regard it. Nor, on returning to my lodgings, was the further news which greeted me of a nature to ease my trepidation, for there, pacing the chamber with a nervous footstep, I found to my astonishment von Reinhold.

"You recollect one

"The mischief is out," he said. Viviano Codagora, whose beauty you marred with the aid of flaming pitch ?"

I started, marvelling from what source he had obtained the story. He noted my surprise, and added, "I fancy that we on our side are by this time better acquainted with the little secrets of your Company than you imagine."

I glanced up at him sharply. He had discarded his uniform, and, like the majority of the Spanish nobles and officials, was richly but soberly clad throughout in black, unrelieved save by the whiteness of a stiffstarched ruff about his neck. I knew that his presence in my room must be dictated by something other than a mere idle motive, or he would not have risked his own security to visit me. He was quick to guess at my unspoken thought, however.

"You need not be alarmed for me," he said, while he balanced himself against the table. "There is a marked revulsion of feeling in favour of His Excellency; so marked, indeed, that as I came along I was more than gratified by the kindly cheering of some of the less