Calabressa stepped out from his hiding-place, went after him, and tapped him on the shoulder.  He turned, stared, and endeavored to appear angry and astonished.

“Oh yes, to be sure,” said Calabressa, with calm sarcasm, “at your disposition, signore.  So we were not satisfied with selling photographs and pebbles to the English on board the steamer; we want to get a little Judas money; we sell ourselves to the weasels, the worms, the vermin—­”

“Oh, I assure you, signore—­” the shaven-faced youth exclaimed, much more humbly.

“Oh, I assure you too, signore,” Calabressa continued, facetiously.  “And you, you poor innocent, you have not been with the weasels six weeks when you think you will try your nose in tracking me.  Body of Bacchus, it is too insolent!”

“I assure you, signore—­”

“Now, behold this, my friend:  we must give children like you a warning.  If you had been a little older, and not quite so foolish, I should have had you put on the Black List of my friends the Camorristi—­you understand?  But you—­we will cure you otherwise.  You know the Englishman’s yacht that has come into the Great Harbor—­”

“Signore, I beg of you—­”

“Beg of the devil!” said Calabressa, calmly.  “Between the Englishman’s yacht and the Little Mole you will find a schooner moored—­her name. La Svezia; do not forget—­La Svezia.  To-morrow you will go on board of her, ask for the captain, go down below, and beg him to be so kind as to give you twelve stripes—­”

“Signore—­”

“Another word, mouchard, and I make it twenty.  He will give you a receipt, which you will sign, and bring to me; otherwise, down goes your name on the list.  Which do you prefer?  Oh, we will teach some of you young weasels a lesson!  I have the honor to wish you a good morning.”

Calabressa touched his hat politely, and walked on, leaving the young man petrified with rage and fear.

By-and-by he began to walk more leisurely and with more circumspection, keeping a sharp lookout, as well as his near-sighted eyes allowed, on any passer-by or vehicle he happened to meet.  At length, and with the same precautions he had used on a former occasion, he entered the grounds of the villa he had sought out in the company of Gathorne Edwards, and made his way up to the fountain on the little plateau.  But now his message had been previously prepared; he dropped it into the receptacle concealed beneath the lip of the fountain, and then descended the steep little terraces until he got round to the entrance of the grotto.

Instead of passing in by this cleft in the rockwork, however, he found awaiting him there the person who had summoned him—­the so-called General Von Zoesch.  Calabressa was somewhat startled, but he said, “Your humble servant, Excellenza,” and removed his cap.

“Keep your hat on your head, friend Calabressa,” said the other, good-naturedly; “you are as old as I am.”