omats, and
distinguished foreigners. Civil guards by hundreds in their purple
plumes lined the streets, and the pavements were packed with loyal
people. It was a glorious pageant, such as Roma loved.

The mayors of the province, followed by citizens under their appointed
leaders and flags, came up to the Quirinal as the Baron had appointed,
and called the King on to the balcony. The King accepted the call and
made a sign of thanks.

Returning to the house the King ordered that papers should be prepared
immediately creating the Baron Bonelli by royal decree Dictator of Italy
for a period of six months from that date. "If Roma were here now,"
thought the Baron.

Then night came, and the state dinner at the royal palace was a moving
scene of enchantment. One princess came after another, apparently
clothed in diamonds. The Baron wore the Collar of the Annunziata, and
the foreign ambassadors, who as representatives of their sovereigns were
entitled to precedence, gave place to him, and he sat on the right of
the Queen.

After dinner he led the Queen to an embroidered throne under a velvet
baldachino in a gorgeous chamber which had been the chapel of the Popes.
Then the ball began. What torrents of light! What a dazzling blaze of
diamonds! What lovely faces and pure white skins! What soft bosoms and
full round forms! What gleams of life and love in a hundred pairs of
beautiful eyes! But there was a lovelier face and form in the mind of
the Baron than any his eyes could see, and excusing himself to the King
on the ground of Rossi's expected arrival, he left the palace.

Fireflies in the dark garden of the Quirinal were emitting drops of
light as the Baron passed through the echoing courts, and the big square
in front, bright with electric light, was silent save for the footfall
of the sentries at the gate.

The Baron walked in the direction of the Piazza Navona. His
self-reproach was becoming poignant. He remembered the threats he had
made, and told himself he had never intended to carry them out. They
were only meant to impress the imagination of the person played upon, as
might happen in any ordinary affair of public life.

The Baron's memory went back to the last state ball before this one, and
he felt some pangs of shame. But the disaster of that night had not been
due to the cold calculation to which he had attributed it. The cause was
simpler and more human--love of a beautiful woman who was slipping away
from h