ing. Michele at once procured a stout bludgeon, and lay in wait
every night behind the door. But it happened that Salvator and Antonio
judged it prudent to omit their serenading in the Via Ripetta for some
nights preceding the carrying into execution of their plan, so as not
to remind the old gentleman of his adversaries. Marianna remarked quite
innocently that though she hated Antonio and Salvator, yet she liked
their singing, for nothing was so nice as to hear music floating
upwards in the night air.

This Signor Pasquale made a mental note of, and as the essence of
gallantry purposed to surprise his love with a serenade on his part,
which he had himself composed and carefully practised up with his
faithful friends. On the very night preceding that in which he was
hoping to celebrate his greatest triumph in Nicolo Musso's theatre, he
stealthily slipped out of the house and went and fetched his
associates, with whom he had previously arranged matters. But no sooner
had they sounded the first few notes on their guitars than Michele,
whom Signor Pasquale had thoughtlessly forgotten to apprise of his
design, burst forth from behind the door, highly delighted at finding
that the opportunity which was to bring him in the promised reward had
at last come, and began to cudgel the musicians most unmercifully, with
the results of which we are already acquainted. Of course there was no
further mention made of either Splendiano or Pitichinaccio's
accompanying Signor Pasquale to Nicolo's theatre, for they were both
confined to their bed beplastered all over. Signor Pasquale, however,
was unable to stay away, although his back and shoulders were smarting
not a little from the drubbing he had himself received; every note in
his arias was a cord which drew him thither with irresistible power.

"Well now," said Salvator to Antonio, "since the obstacle which we took
to be insurmountable has been removed out of our way of itself, it all
depends now entirely upon your address not to let the favourable moment
slip for carrying off your Marianna from Nicolo's theatre. But I
needn't talk, you'll not fail; I will greet you now as the betrothed of
Capuzzi's lovely niece, who in a few days will be your wife. I wish you
happiness, Antonio, and yet I feel a shiver run through me when I think
upon your marriage."

"What do you mean, Salvator?" asked Antonio, utterly astounded.

"Call it a crotchet, call it a foolish fancy, or what you will,
A