as a woman, to escape
from his pursuers, I feel assured that I shall find the hag out. Only
have patience till tomorrow, and I will then give you your answer.
Meanwhile you may be satisfied that the occurrences of that night were
no phantoms of your mind, but realities; thus far you may set yourself
and your elderly friend at rest."

The young people were lost in thought as they left the wonderful man,
and Antonio thankt the Spaniard heartily for having procured him this
acquaintance.

* * * * *

Antonio had not been mistaken. It was in fact the old woman that he
had caught sight of in the crowd. She was living in a little hut,
behind some ruinous houses, not far from the Lateran. Persecuted,
destitute, deserted and hated and dreaded by all the world, she was
here, in the abode of wretchedness, reduced to the brink of despair.
She seldom ventured to shew herself abroad, and on this day too had
only gone out from necessity, to bring her Crescentia, who had run
away from her, back again.

As everybody shrank out of her path, as it was hard work for her even
to obtain here and there an alms, and as her former arts found few
lovers, she was no little astonisht that evening to hear a knock at
her door, while cries and shouts were tossing without. She took her
lamp, and, opening the door, saw a swarm of street-boys and of the
lowest rabble at the heels of a little crooked figure fantastically
clad in red velvet and gold.

"Does not the worthy Pancrazia live here?" screamed the deformed
dwarf.

"Ay, to be sure!" said the old woman, as she forcibly banged the door
to, and tried to drive away the people on the outside by abuse. "Who
are you, worthy Sir? what do you seek from an old forlorn lady?"

"Set yourself down," said the little stranger, "and kindle some more
light, that we may spy and look at one another; and whereas you call
yourself poor, take these gold pieces, and we will sip a glass of wine
together to our better acquaintance."

The old woman smirkt, lighted some wax-candles which she kept lockt up
in a drawer, and said: "I have still a flask of good Florence,
worshipful sir, that shall warm our insides." She opened a little
cupboard and placed the red comforter upon the table, pouring out the
first glass for her unknown guest.

"Why do you call me worshipful?" askt he.

"Don't the pieces of gold declare it?" answered she: "and your
doublet, and the lace upon it, and the f