fter Pina and
Ortensia had left it. In spite of the asseverations of the innkeeper, he
had found that there were horses to be had in plenty in the city, and
that it was merely a question of choice and of paying well for the
accommodation. He was hastening upstairs to tell this to Stradella when
he was stopped by the host himself, who informed him that Stradella was
imprisoned in the castle, and that the lady and her serving-woman had
just gone away on foot.

'You had better melt away yourself,' the innkeeper concluded in a
confidential tone, 'unless you wish to be clapped into prison too.'

Cucurullo had betrayed no surprise at what the host told him, and he did
not seem inclined to pay any immediate attention to the latter's advice,
though it was distinctly friendly. He was used to that, for few Italians
would care to incur the hatred of a hunch-backed man, who is supposed to
bring good luck to those who treat him well, and to dispose of the
mysterious curses of the Evil Eye for wreaking vengeance on those who
injure him. Cucurullo stood still on the stairs, in deep thought, after
the innkeeper had ceased speaking.

'What is the name of the Legate?' he inquired, looking up at last.

'Pelagatti,' answered the other. 'He is from the South, they say;
though, between you and me, he looks more like a rat than a Christian.
Monsignor Luigi Pelagatti, that is his name.'

Again Cucurullo was silent, apparently more absorbed in his thoughts
than ever.

'Come, come!' cried the innkeeper in an encouraging tone. 'You need not
be so down-hearted! I will have a good meal cooked for you, and if you
need a little ready money for your journey, it is at your disposal. A
clever fellow like you will soon find another place.'

By way of laying in a stock of luck for the day, he patted the deformed
man's hump as he spoke, but he awaited the answer with evident concern,
for it was fortunate to have a hunch-backed man eat and drink in one's
house; a hunch-backed woman, on the contrary, always brought evil with
her, and should be driven from the door.

Cucurullo's reply was not only of favourable omen, but announced a piece
of unexpected good-fortune.

'You are very obliging,' he said, 'and I shall be glad of a mouthful at
noon. As for your kind offer to lend me money, I thank you heartily, but
I am well provided, and wish to pay my master's bill here before
accepting your friendly offer of a dinner. My master always trusts me
with a