vil spirits of love, and have come to carry you
off to hell--to hell-fire--you and your crony Pitichinaccio." Thus
screaming, the Satanic figures fell upon the old man. Capuzzi fell
heavily to the ground and Pitichinaccio along with him, both raising a
shrill piercing cry of distress and fear, like that of a whole troop of
cudgelled asses.

Marianna had meanwhile torn herself away from the old man and leapt
aside. Then one of the devils clasped her softly in his arms,
whispering the sweet glad words, "O Marianna! my Marianna! At last
we've managed it! My friends will carry the old man a long, long way
from here, whilst we seek a better place of safety."

"O my Antonio!" whispered Marianna softly.

But suddenly the scene was illuminated by the light of several torches,
and Antonio felt a stab in his shoulder. Quick as lightning he turned
round, drew his sword, and attacked the fellow, who with his stiletto
upraised was just preparing to aim a second blow. He perceived that his
three companions were defending themselves against a superior number of
gendarmes. He managed to beat off the fellow who had attacked him, and
joined his friends. Although they were maintaining their ground
bravely, the contest was yet too unequal; the gendarmes would
infallibly have proved victorious had not two others suddenly ranged
themselves with a shout on the side of the young men, one of them
immediately cutting down the fellow who was pressing Antonio the
hardest.

In a few minutes more the contest was decided against the police.
Several lay stretched on the ground seriously wounded; the rest fled
with loud shouts towards the Porta del Popolo.

Salvator Rosa (for he it was who had hastened to Antonio's assistance
and cut down his opponent) wanted to take Antonio and the young
painters who were disguised in the devils' masks and there and then
pursue the gendarmes into the city.

Maria Agli, however, who had come along with him, and, notwithstanding
his advanced age, had tackled the police as stoutly as any of the rest,
urged that this would be imprudent, for the guard at the Porta del
Popolo would be certain to have intelligence of the affair and would
arrest them. So they all betook themselves to Nicolo Musso, who gladly
received them into his narrow little house not far from the theatre.
The artists took off their devils' masks and laid aside their mantles,
which had been rubbed over with phosphorus, whilst Antonio, who,
beyond t