Then, with a whine, he begged his followers to get his hat back for him.

They complied.
'We only called "Illustrissimo!"' said Agostino, as one of the men returned from the interior of the caffe hat in hand.
'The Signori should have known better--it is an idiot,' the man replied.
He was a novice: in daring to rebuke he betrayed his office.
Checco snatched his hat from his attentive friend grinning, and was away in a flash.

Thereupon the caffe laughed, and laughed with an abashing vehemence that disconcerted the spies.

They wavered in their choice of following Checco or not; one went a step forward, one pulled back; the loiterer hurried to rejoin his comrade, who was now for a retrograde movement, and standing together they swayed like two imperfectly jolly fellows, or ballet bandits, each plucking at the other, until at last the maddening laughter made them break, reciprocate cat-like hisses of abuse, and escape as they best could--lamentable figures.
'It says well for Milan that the Tedeschi can scrape up nothing better from the gutters than rascals the like of those for their service,' quoth Agostino.

'Eh, Signor Conte ?' 'That enclosure about La Vittoria's name on the bills is correct,' said the person addressed, in a low tone.