ptly--

"We must part."

"Part!"

"Yes, Nina--your guard is preparing; you have relations, I have friends,
at Florence. Florence must be your home."

"Cola,--"

"Look not on me thus.--in power, in state, in safety--you were my
ornament and counsellor. Now you but embarrass me. And--"

"Oh, Cola, speak not thus! What hath chanced? Be not so cold--frown
not--turn not away! Am I not something more to thee, than the partner
of joyous hours--the minion of love? Am I not thy wife, Cola--not thy
leman?"

"Too dear--too dear to me," muttered the Tribune; "with thee by my side
I shall be but half a Roman. Nina, the base slaves whom I myself made
free desert me.--Now, in the very hour in which I might sweep away for
ever all obstacles to the regeneration of Rome--now, when one conquest
points the path to complete success--now when the land is visible, my
fortune suddenly leaves me in the midst of the seas! There is greater
danger now than in the rage of the Barons--the Barons are fled; it is
the People who are becoming traitors to Rome and to me."

"And wouldst thou have me traitor also! No, Cola; in death itself Nina
shall be beside thee. Life and honour are reflected but from thee, and
the stroke that slays the substance, shall destroy the humble shadow. I
will not part from thee."

"Nina," said the Tribune, contending with strong and convulsive
emotion--"it may be literally of death that you speak.--Go! leave one
who can no longer protect you or Rome!"

"Never--Never."

"You are resolved?"

"I am."

"Be it so," said the Tribune, with deep sadness in his tone. "Arm
thyself for the worst."

"There is no worst with thee, Cola!"

"Come to my arms, brave woman; thy words rebuke my weakness. But my
sister!--if I fall, you, Nina, will not survive--your beauty a prey to
the most lustful heart and the strongest hand. We will have the same
tomb on the wrecks of Roman liberty. But Irene is of weaker mould; poor
child, I have robbed her of a lover, and now--"

"You are right; let Irene go. And in truth we may well disguise from
her the real cause of her departure. Change of scene were best for her
grief; and under all circumstances would seem decorum to the curious. I
will see and prepare her."

"Do so, sweetheart. I would gladly be a moment alone with thought. But
remember, she must part today--our sands run low."

As the door closed on Nina, the Tribune took out the letter and again
read it deliberately. "So th