their excited minds. They looked anxiously around as if in dread, but
Guerrazzi, who perceived the general impression, hastened to reassure
them.

"Do not be in the least alarmed," he said, "we have nothing to fear.
The people surround the Castle, and would not leave one stone upon
another, if any violence were offered to us. We possess their
confidence, we must show ourselves worthy of our trust. Believe me,
since the time of Romulus and Remus, no tribunes have ever been chosen
with so much promptness and discrimination as ourselves. Since, in
spite of my unworthiness, the people have seen fit to elevate me to the
dignity of the tribuneship, I intend, as certain as I can trace my
origin directly back to Romulus, to show myself worthy of the honor,
and to defend the people's rights with all my energy."

At this moment the Pope, accompanied by Conrad of Mayence, entered the
hall by a side-door.

Guerrazzi's colleagues, generally, belonged to the dregs of the people,
and modelled their conduct upon his. Still, although the crafty tailor
felt persuaded of their devotion to his cause and their own ambitious
schemes, he felt that they were overawed by the calm majesty of the
Pontiff, before whom they preserved a silence which induced Alexander
to suppose, at first, that they had come to solicit his forgiveness for
the insurgents.

But Guerrazzi was not a vulgar rebel; he was a villain ready for
anything, an accomplished scoundrel. Approaching the Pope with
assurance, he drew himself up, threw back his head, and spoke thus:

"Sir Pope, we, the tribunes of the Roman people, wish you to understand
that the Emperor has offered us his friendship, and that we have
accepted it. No harm shall be done to your person, but you must resign
the sovereign dignity, in order that the Roman people may, as is its
right, choose a Pope. As you are a pious and a holy man, you may,
perhaps, hope that our choice will fall again upon yourself as a fit
person to occupy St. Peter's chair."

The demagogue was silent and awaited the Pontiff's answer, but there
was none; the arrogance and importance of the harangue rendered any
reply impossible.

The tailor had more skill and craftiness than the Holy Father. People
of elevated sentiments can never understand all the insincerity and
baseness of which vulgar minds are capable, and Alexander could not
suppose that the speaker only sought to lead him into a snare which
would make him odious to the