"When the two thousand pieces were numbered, Baptistello presented himself before Villani in the disguise of a Basilian, requesting him to pay Prince St. Agata the money and redeem the bare-bleached skull, which grins so horribly from the battlements of the Palazzo Zizi. They met at the porch of the great church, where the notary had just been hearing mass. He denied ever having received a quattrino of the money: not a single piece had he ever seen—’No, by the miraculous blood of Gennaro!’
"’Behold your signed receipts, Master Scrivano.’
"’Via! they are forgeries. Away, or I will summon the officers of justice.’
"’My two thousand scudi!—my hard-won money, earned at peril of my soul! Return it, thou most infamous of robbers!’ cried the infuriated Varro, grasping the notary’s throat and unsheathing his poniard.
"’Help, in the name of the Grand Court!’ shrieked Villani. Baptistello was arrested, imprisoned in the fearful _Damusi_, and kept there for months; he was then scourged with rods, and thrust forth, naked and bleeding, to perish in the streets; while the money, earned with so much toil and danger, went to enrich the dishonest notary. Baptistello is on the mountains above us; and if Villani falls into his hands this night, Signor Cavaliere, thou mayest imagine the sequel."
The improvisatore ceased, and I saw the keen twinkling eyes of the notary watching me: he must have heard the whole story, while affecting to sleep; and, trembling violently, he clutched his legal green bag. Suddenly some one tapped at the casement; and I saw a large, fierce and grim face peering in.
"Ha!" cried the notary, springing up; "’t is the calessiero returned at last. Thou loitering villain! I will teach you how to respect a member of the Grand Civil court of Sicily."
He opened the door, and—horror!—instead of the humble and apologizing postilion, there stood the tall athletic form of Baptistello Varro, clad in his glittering bandit costume. Had the notary encountered thus the great head of his profession, face to face, he could not have been more overwhelmed with dismay: he seemed absolutely to shrink in size before the stern gaze of the formidable robber; whose entrance scarcely less alarmed the old priest, the poor improvisatore, and myself. But, remembering my former adventures with Varro, I was not without hope of escape. The albergo was crowded with his savage followers, and we were all dragged roughly forth as prisoners. The notary’s hired calesso was undergoing a thorough search: the lining was all torn out, and every pannel and cushion were pierced and slashed; while the contents of his trunks and mails were scattered in every direction, and flying on the breeze. In his green bag were found a thousand ducats.