s. The good young man asked the bad old
woman what she had done with his girl; of course she had done nothing
with her, but we heard shrieks. The good young man became suspicious,
broke open the door of the house and, on learning the worst, shot the bad
old woman dead and was taken by the police.

"This seems as though it were going to be a very interesting play," said
the buffo when the curtain had fallen.

"Yes," said I, "what do you think will happen next?"

"You ought to know that," he replied; "it's no use asking me. I never
saw a Sicilian play in Rio."

"Of course not; I was forgetting. I should say that the good young man
will be acquitted because it was justifiable homicide or that he will
return after a short term of imprisonment; in any case I think he will
marry Rosina and live happily ever after."

"I see," he replied. "You think it will be a comedy. People who take a
gloomy view of life naturally expect something cheerful in the theatre.
But what if it is a tragedy? And how are you going to dispose of the
cavaliere? Is he to carry his wickedness through your comedy?"

"You want it to be a tragedy because you are a buffo, I suppose. Now let
me think. If you are right--"

Before I could see my way to a tragic plot, the curtain rose on Act II.
The women of the village were going to Mass, but Rosina, reduced to
ragged misery, fell on the steps, not worthy to enter. The cavaliere
came by and offered her money, which she indignantly spurned. A good old
woman, who happened to be passing, scowled at the cavaliere and kindly
led Rosina away. An old man returned from America, where he had been for
twenty years to escape the consequences of a crime the details of which
he ostentatiously suppressed. This was his native village; he began
recognising things and commenting on the changes. Rosina came to him
begging. He looked at her and passed his hand over his eyes as he said:

"My girl, why are you begging at your age--so young, so fair?"

"Ah! Old man, I am in ragged misery because my father committed a
crime."

"A crime! What crime?"

So Rosina told him about it and the escape of the criminal to America.
The tears in her voice were so copious that her words were nearly
drowned, but that did not signify; we were intelligent enough to have
already guessed the relationship between them and we knew that she must
be supplying the details which he had suppressed.

He struggled with his surgin