"'It is arranged,' he said. 'If the signor will be so kind as to pay his bill, these gentlemen will afford the signor the protection that is necessary for him.'
"'And the Camorra?' I asked.
"'Hush!' he replied, lifting both his hand to enjoin silence.
"So I paid my bill and accompanied my police escort, trying to think more kindly of my landlord.
"'The good man means well," I said to myself. 'He fears lest I should be assassinated by this terrible and all-pervading society. He procures me police protection. I will write to him and say that it was quite unnecessary, but that I am nevertheless obliged to him.' Then, as we got out into the street, I proceeded to enter into conversation with my escort.
"'Voyons!' I said to them. 'You, at least, my friends, will be able to give me some information about this mysterious Camorra.'
"'Silence!' in authoritative accents was the only answer that I got.
"'Have a glass of wine with me, then, before we go any further,' I suggested.
"They agreed to that, and sat round me outside a café and drank at my expense; but the refreshment did not make them much more communicative. The Camorra was the Camorra. It was secret; it was powerful. It helped its friends, and punished its enemies without mercy. The people who did not belong to it had to pay tribute to those who did. That was all the information I could get. "'It must be a society that works for the revolution,' I suggested.
"'Silence!' came the answer again, in accents half savage and half scared; and we left the café and marched on.