ect how the plan
which I have hit upon is to be carried out. To begin with, I must tell
you that I have a certain connection with Signor Capuzzi which I was
not aware of. That wretched spinett standing in the corner there is his
property, and I am supposed to be going to pay him the exorbitant price
of ten ducats for it. When I had got somewhat better after my illness,
I had a longing for music, which is consolation and recreation to me. I
asked my landlady to get hold of an instrument of that sort for me.
Dame Caterina soon found out that a certain old fellow in Strada
Ripetta had an old spinett for sale. It was brought here, and I
troubled myself neither about the price nor about the owner. It was
only last night that I discovered that it was our honourable Signor
Capuzzi who was going to swindle me with his old, broken-down
instrument. Dame Caterina had applied to an acquaintance who lives in
the house with Capuzzi, and, in fact, on the same storey; so that now
you see where I got all my information from."

"Ha!" cried Antonio; "thus is the means of admission discovered. Your
landlady----"

"I know what you are going to say," said Salvator. "You think the way
to your Marianna is through Dame Caterina. That would never do at all.
Dame Caterina is much too talkative; she can't keep the most trifling
secret, and is therefore by no means to be made use of in our
undertaking. Listen to me, quietly. Every evening, when the little
Castrato has done the maid-servant work, Signor Pasquale Capuzzi
carries him home in his arms, difficult as that job is, considering the
shakiness of his own old knees. Not for all the world would the
timorous Pitichinaccio set foot on the pavement at that time of the
night. Very good; when----"

At this moment a knock came to Salvator's door, and, to the no small
astonishment of both, in came Signor Pasquale Capuzzi in all his glory.
As soon as he saw Scacciati he stood still, as if paralysed in every
limb, opened his eyes wide, and panted for air as if his breath would
fail him. But Salvator hurried up to him, took him by both hands, and
cried out: "My dear Signor Pasquale! how highly honoured I am that you
should visit me in my humble lodging. Doubtless it is the love of art
that brings you. You wish to look at what I have been doing lately;
perhaps you are even going to honour me with a commission. Tell me,
dear Signor Pasquale, wherein I can do you a pleasure."

"I have to speak with you