misconstrued, and turned against him as a reproach.

In the evening, after the performance, which was to be the last, I took
the bank according to my promise: I lost a few sequins, but was caressed
by everybody, and that is much more pleasant than winning, when we are
not labouring under the hard necessity of making money.

Count Spada, who had got quite fond of me, wanted me to accompany him to
Brisighetta, but I resisted his entreaties because I had firmly resolved
on going to Naples.

The next morning I was awoke by a terrible noise in the passage, almost
at the door of my room.

Getting out of my bed, I open my door to ascertain the cause of the
uproar. I see a troop of 'sbirri' at the door of a chamber, and in that
chamber, sitting up in bed, a fine-looking man who was making himself
hoarse by screaming in Latin against that rabble, the plague of Italy,
and against the inn-keeper who had been rascally enough to open the door.

I enquire of the inn-keeper what it all means.

"This gentleman," answers the scoundrel, "who, it appears, can only speak
Latin, is in bed with a girl, and the 'sbirri' of the bishop have been
sent to know whether she is truly his wife; all perfectly regular. If she
is his wife, he has only to convince them by shewing a certificate of
marriage, but if she is not, of course he must go to prison with her. Yet
it need not happen, for I undertake to arrange everything in a friendly
manner for a few sequins. I have only to exchange a few words with the
chief of the 'sbirri', and they will all go away. If you can speak Latin,