“‘You look poor, friend,’ said one of them, halting; ’yet you are strong.’

“’Poor men and strong are both serviceable and dangerous, Signor Cavalier.’

“‘Well said; follow us.’

“I obeyed, and became a bandit.  I rose by degrees; and as I have always been mild in my calling, and have taken purses without cutting throats, I bear an excellent character, and can eat my macaroni at Naples without any danger to life and limb.  For the last two years I have settled in these parts, where I hold sway, and where I have purchased land.  I am called a farmer, signor; and I myself now only rob for amusement, and to keep my hand in.  I trust I have satisfied your curiosity.  We are within a hundred yards of the castle.”

“And how,” asked the Englishman, whose interest had been much excited by his companion’s narrative,—­“and how came you acquainted with my host?—­and by what means has he so well conciliated the goodwill of yourself and friends?”

Maestro Paolo turned his black eyes very gravely towards his questioner.  “Why, signor,” said he, “you must surely know more of the foreign cavalier with the hard name than I do.  All I can say is, that about a fortnight ago I chanced to be standing by a booth in the Toledo at Naples, when a sober-looking gentleman touched me by the arm, and said, ’Maestro Paolo, I want to make your acquaintance; do me the favour to come into yonder tavern, and drink a flask of lacrima.’  ‘Willingly,’ said I. So we entered the tavern.  When we were seated, my new acquaintance thus accosted me:  ’The Count d’O—­ has offered to let me hire his old castle near B—.  You know the spot?’

“’Extremely well; no one has inhabited it for a century at least; it is half in ruins, signor.  A queer place to hire; I hope the rent is not heavy.’

“‘Maestro Paolo,’ said he, ’I am a philosopher, and don’t care for luxuries.  I want a quiet retreat for some scientific experiments.  The castle will suit me very well, provided you will accept me as a neighbour, and place me and my friends under your special protection.  I am rich; but I shall take nothing to the castle worth robbing.  I will pay one rent to the count, and another to you.’

“With that we soon came to terms; and as the strange signor doubled the sum I myself proposed, he is in high favour with all his neighbours.  We would guard the whole castle against an army.  And now, signor, that I have been thus frank, be frank with me.  Who is this singular cavalier?”

“Who?—­he himself told you, a philosopher.”

“Hem! searching for the Philosopher’s Stone,—­eh, a bit of a magician; afraid of the priests?”

“Precisely; you have hit it.”

“I thought so; and you are his pupil?”

“I am.”

“I wish you well through it,” said the robber, seriously, and crossing himself with much devotion; “I am not much better than other people, but one’s soul is one’s soul.  I do not mind a little honest robbery, or knocking a man on the head if need be,—­but to make a bargain with the devil!  Ah, take care, young gentleman, take care!”