'member ole John?
Well, ole John...."

"I know, Bruno. But I'm going nevertheless."

Bruno fought with the vapour in his brain, and said: "You don' mean t'
say you inten' t' let yourself be a target...."

"That's what I do mean, Bruno."

Bruno burst into a loud laugh. "Well, I'll be ... wha' the devil.... But
you sha'n't go. I'll ... I'll see you damned first!"

"You're drunk, Bruno. Go and put yourself to bed."

The drink-deadened eyes flashed, and to grief succeeded rage. "Pu' mysel
t' bed! D'ye know wha' I'd like t' do t' you for t' nex' twenty-four
hours? I'd jus' like--yes, by Bacchus--I'd jus' like to punch you in t'
belly and put _you_ t' bed."

And straightening himself up with drunken dignity, Bruno stalked out of
the room.

* * * * *

The Baron Bonelli in the Piazza Leone was rising from his late and
solitary dinner when Felice entered the shaded dining-room and handed
him a letter from Roma. It ran:

"This is to let you know that I intend to be present at the
meeting in the Coliseum to-morrow night. Therefore, if any shots
are to be fired by the soldiers at the crowd or their leader, you
will know beforehand that they must also be fired at me."

As the Baron held the letter under the red shade of the lamp, the usual
immobility of his icy face gave way to a rapturous expression.

"The woman is magnificent! And worth fighting for to the bitter end."

Then, turning to Felice, he told the man to ring up the Commendatore
Angelelli and tell him to send for Minghelli without delay.

V

Next day began with heavy clouds lying low over the city, a cold wind
coming down from the mountains, and the rumbling of distant thunder.
Nevertheless the people who had come to Rome for the demonstration at
the Coliseum seemed to be in the streets the whole day long. From early
morning they gathered in the Piazza Navona, inquired for David Rossi,
stood by the fountains, and looked up at his windows.

As the day wore on the crowds increased.

All the public squares seemed to be full of motley, ill-clad,
ill-nourished, but formidable multitudes. Towards evening the tradesmen
began to shut up their shops, and a regiment of cavalry paraded the
principal streets with a band that played the royal march.

Meantime, the leader, to whom thousands were looking up, was miserable
and alone. He had cried "Peace," but the perils of protest were