hether Don
Antonio would find no harm had come to poor Johnny. I had my doubts.
I regretted having to tell Donna Antonia what I did not believe to
be true, but these things are incidental to revolutions--a point of
resemblance between them and commercial life.

When I arrived at the bank I dispatched brief answers to my budget of
letters; each of the answers was to the same purport, namely, that I
should be at the barracks at the appointed time. I need not trouble
the reader with the various wrappings in which this essential piece
of intelligence was involved. I then had a desperate encounter with
Jones; business was slack, and Jones was fired with the unholy desire
of seizing the opportunity thus offered to make an exhaustive inquiry
into the state of our reserve. He could not understand my sudden
punctiliousness as to times and seasons, and I was afraid I should
have to tell him plainly that only over my lifeless body should he
succeed in investing the contents of the safe. At last I effected
a diversion by persuading him to give Mrs. Jones a jaunt into the
country, and, thus left in peace, I spent my afternoon in making final
preparations. I burned many letters; I wrote a touching farewell to
my father, in which, under the guise of offering forgiveness, I took
occasion to point out to him how greatly his imprudent conduct had
contributed to increase the difficulties of his dutiful son. I was
only restrained from making a will by the obvious imprudence of
getting it witnessed. I spent a feverish hour in firing imaginary
shots from my revolver, to ascertain whether the instrument was in
working order. Finally I shut up the bank at five, went to the Piazza,
partook of a light repast, and smoked cigars with mad speed till it
was time to dress for the supper; and never was I more rejoiced than
when the moment for action at last came. As I was dressing, lingering
over each garment with a feeling that I might never put it on, or,
for that matter, take it off again, I received a second note from
the colonel. It was brought by a messenger, on a sweating horse, who
galoped up to my door. I knew the messenger well by sight; he was the
colonel's valet. My heart was in my mouth as I took the envelope from
his hands (for I ran down myself). The fellow was evidently in our
secret, for he grinned nervously at me as he handed it over, and said:

"I was to ride fast, and destroy the letter if anyone came near."

I nodded, and opene