"At Brindisi still. The devil of a fellow is not so impatient as I had expected. Ah, well. Have the goodness to send for him, friend Granaglia, and bid him come with speed."
"Most willingly, Excellenza."
CHAPTER XLIX.
AN EMISSARY.
One warm, still afternoon Calabressa was walking quickly along the crowded quays of Naples, when he was beset by a more than usually importunate beggar—a youth of about twelve, almost naked.
"Something for bread, signore—for the love of God—my father taken to heaven, my mother starving—bread, signore—"
"To the devil with you!" said Calabressa.
"May you burst!" replied the polite youth, and he tried to kick Calabressa's legs and make off at the same time.
This feat he failed in, so that, as he was departing, Calabressa hit him a cuff on the side of the head which sent him rolling. Then there was a howl, and presently there was a universal tumult of women, calling out, "Ah, the German! ah, the foreigner!" and so forth, and drawing threateningly near. Calabressa sought in his pockets for a handful of small copper coins, turned, threw them high in the air, and did not stay to watch the effect of the shower on the heads of the women, but walked quietly away.