-he heard
their cry change on a sudden--it was no longer "LIVE THE PEOPLE!" but
"DEATH TO THE TRAITOR!" His attendant had already disappeared, and
waking now only to the danger of Irene, the Colonna in bitter grief
turned away, lightly sped down the descent, and hastened to the
riverside, where the boat and his band awaited him.

The balcony on which Rienzi had alighted was that from which he had been
accustomed to address the people--it communicated with a vast hall used
on solemn occasions for State festivals--and on either side were square
projecting towers, whose grated casements looked into the balcony.
One of these towers was devoted to the armory, the other contained the
prison of Brettone, the brother of Montreal. Beyond the latter tower was
the general prison of the Capitol. For then the prison and the palace
were in awful neighbourhood!

The windows of the Hall were yet open--and Rienzi passed into it from
the balcony--the witness of the yesterday's banquet was still there--the
wine, yet undried, crimsoned the floor, and goblets of gold and silver
shone from the recesses. He proceeded at once to the armory, and
selected from the various suits that which he himself had worn when,
nearly eight years ago, he had chased the Barons from the gates of Rome.
He arrayed himself in the mail, leaving only his head uncovered; and
then taking, in his right hand, from the wall, the great Gonfalon of
Rome, returned once more to the hall. Not a man encountered him. In that
vast building, save the prisoners, and the faithful Nina, whose presence
he knew not of--the Senator was alone.

On they came, no longer in measured order, as stream after stream--from
lane, from alley, from palace and from hovel--the raging sea
received new additions. On they came--their passions excited by their
numbers--women and men, children and malignant age--in all the awful
array of aroused, released, unresisted physical strength and brutal
wrath; "Death to the traitor--death to the tyrant--death to him who has
taxed the people!"--"Mora l' traditore che ha fatta la gabella!--Mora!"
Such was the cry of the people--such the crime of the Senator! They
broke over the low palisades of the Capitol--they filled with one sudden
rush the vast space;--a moment before so desolate,--now swarming with
human beings athirst for blood!

Suddenly came a dead silence, and on the balcony above stood Rienzi--his
head was bared and the morning sun shone over that lo