“A Count Marazzani, who was here three weeks ago, and told me he had been luckier than you, as he had made his escape.”
“He’s a liar and a scoundrel; and if ever I meet him again he shall pay me dearly.”
From that moment I never thought of the rascal without feeling a lively desire to give him a thrashing, but I never thought that chance would bring about so early a meeting.
Under the circumstances I think my behaviour will be thought only natural. I had beaten him, but that was not enough for me. I seemed to have done nothing, and indeed, I had got as good as I gave.
In the mean time he was in prison, and I went to M. de R—— to see what he could do for me.
As soon as M. de R. heard my statement he said he could neither keep him in prison nor drive him out of the town unless I laid a plea before him, craving protection against this man, whom I believed to have come to Lugano with the purpose of assassinating me.
“You can make the document more effective,” he added, “by placing your actual grievance in a strong light, and laying stress on his sudden appearance in your room without sending in his name. That’s what you had better do, and it remains to be seen how I shall answer your plea. I shall ask him for his passport and delay the case, and order him to be severely treated; but in the end I shall only be able to drive him out of the town, unless he can find good bail.”
I could ask no more. I sent in my plea, and the next day I had the pleasure of seeing him brought into the court bound hand and foot.
M. de R. began to examine him, and Marazzani swore he had no evil intentions in calling on me. As to the calumny, he protested he had only repeated common rumour, and professed his joy at finding it had been mistaken.
This ought to have been enough for me, but I continued obdurate.