"'To-morrow,' I said to myself, 'I will investigate this matter. In the meantime, I will dismiss it from my mind, and dine.'
"I ceased wondering, therefore, and ate my dinner, and strolled out into the city to divert myself.
"My diversion took the form of a game of billiards in a café, which was not, I must admit, one of the most fashionable cafés in the city. It was, in fact, a café in the dark and narrow street known as the Tre Capelle—the street of the Three Hats. There was a better opportunity of observing the life of the people there than in the more fashionable quarters.
"But I did not merely observe the life of the people. I also won the people's money. My skill at billiards was not, in those days, inconsiderable. In several successive games I was the victor, and each game was played for a higher stake than the game preceding it. Altogether, perhaps, I won enough to pay my hotel bill for a week. Then I pocketed my profits and bade the company a courteous 'Good evening.'
"'Addio!' I said, waving my broad-brimmed hat and smiling; and then took my umbrella—for it had been raining—and stepped jauntily into the street.
"Hardly had I gone half-a-dozen steps when a stranger stepped out of the shadow and approached me.
"The street was dimly lighted with oil lamps, and I could not see him well, but I saw that he, too, was gaudy and robust. His small round felt hat had cocks' feathers in it, and he wore earrings which glittered in the lamplight. He brandished a cudgel in his right hand, while his left was extended like a mendicant's.
"'Our share, signor?' he asked peremptorily, if not quite truculently.
"'Whose share? And whom may I have the honour of addressing?' I retorted with no less determination.
"'Il Camorrista—the Camorra man,' he rejoined, in just such accents as he might have used had he been able to announce himself as the policeman on duty in the neighbourhood.