nt at a
moment's notice, as a youth of the Neapolitan lower classes. This fellow
was an excellent specimen of his tribe.

"Since you know Angelotti, perhaps you will be good enough to tell me
his address?" I said at last. "I have no doubt I shall then be able to
find him for myself."

Seeing the advantage he held, and scenting employment of not too severe
a kind, the young man made a gesture with his hands as if to signify
that while he was perfectly willing to oblige me in so small a matter,
business was business, and he must profit by his opportunity. He would
be perfectly willing, he said, to act as my guide; but it must be
remembered that it would occupy some considerable portion of his
valuable time, and this would have to be paid for at a corresponding
rate.

When I had agreed to his terms he bade me follow him, and leaving the
precincts of the theatre struck out in the direction of the Strada di
Chiaia. Whatever his other deficiencies may have been, he was certainly
a good walker, and I very soon found that it took me all my time to keep
up with him. Reaching the end of the street he turned sharply to the
right, crossed the road, and a few seconds later dived into an alley. Of
all the filthy places of Naples, that in which I now found myself was
undoubtedly the dirtiest. As usual, the houses were many stories high;
but the road was so narrow, and the balconies projected so far from the
windows that an active man might have leaped from side to side with
perfect safety. For the most part the houses consisted of small shops,
though here and there the heavily-barred lower windows and carved
doorways proclaimed them private residences. Halfway down this
objectionable thoroughfare a still smaller and dirtier one led off to
the right, and into this my guide turned, bidding me follow him. Just as
I was beginning to wonder whether I should ever find my way out alive,
the youth came to a standstill before a small shop, in which a number of
second-hand musical instruments were displayed for sale.

"This, Excellenza, is the residence of the most illustrious Angelotti,"
he said, with a wave of his hand toward the shop in question.

"But I understand that he was a letter-writer," I answered, believing
for the moment that the youth had tricked me.

"And it was quite true," he replied. "Until a month ago the Signor
Angelotti had his table at the theatre; but his cousin is dead, and now
he sells the most beautiful violins