uietly. He had
winked at more than one irregularity on the part of Grio, and at the
sound of the name anger gave place to caution. "I have also," he
continued, "my eye upon him, as I shall have it upon Basterga. Will that
satisfy you, Messer Petitot?"

The councillor leaned forward. "Fac salvam Genevam!" he replied in a
voice low and not quite steady. "Do that, keep Geneva safe--guard well
our faith, our wives and little ones--and I care not what you do!" And
he rose from his seat.

The Fourth Syndic did not answer. Those few words that in a moment
raised the discussion from the low level of detail on which the
Inquisitor commonly wasted himself, and set it on the true plane of
patriotism--for with all his faults Petitot was a patriot--silenced
Blondel while they irritated and puzzled him. Why did the man assume
such airs? Why talk as if he and he alone cared for Geneva? Why bear
himself as if he and he alone had shed and was prepared to shed his
blood for the State? Why, indeed? Blondel snarled his indignation, but
made no other answer.

A few minutes later, as he descended the stairs, he laughed at the
momentary annoyance which he had felt. What did it matter to him, a
dying man, who had the better or who the worse, who posed, or who
believed in the pose? It was of moment indeed that his enemies had
contrived to fix him with the responsibility of arresting Basterga, or
of leaving him at large: that they had contrived to connect him with the
Paduan, and made him accountable to an extent which did not please him
for the man's future behaviour. But yet again what did that
matter--after all? Of what moment was it--after all? He was a dying man.
Was anything of moment to him except the one thing which Basterga had it
in his power to grant or to withhold, to give or to deny?

Nothing! Nothing!

He pondered on what had passed, and wondered if he had not done
foolishly. Certainly he had let slip a grand, a unique opportunity of
seizing the man and of snatching the _remedium_. He had put the chance
from him at the risk of future blame. Now he was of two minds about it.
Of two minds: but of one mind only about another thing. As he veered
this way and that in his mind, now cursing his cowardice, and now
thanking God that he had not taken the irrevocable step,

Opportunity
That work'st our thoughts into desires, desires
To resolutions,

kindled in him a burning impatience to act