t, stepping out
laughing and waving his cap.

All the rest of the company hastened to the door. News from the Via
Larga was just what they had been waiting for. But if the news had come
into the piazza, they were not a little surprised at the form of its
advent. Carried above the shoulders of the people, on a bench
apparently snatched up in the street, sat Tito Melema, in smiling
amusement at the compulsion he was under. His cap had slipped off his
head, and hung by the becchetto which was wound loosely round his neck;
and as he saw the group at Nello's door he lifted up his fingers in
beckoning recognition. The next minute he had leaped from the bench on
to a cart filled with bales, that stood in the broad space between the
Baptistery and the steps of the Duomo, while the people swarmed round
him with the noisy eagerness of poultry expecting to be fed. But there
was silence when he began to speak in his clear mellow voice--

"Citizens of Florence! I have no warrant to tell the news except your
will. But the news is good, and will harm no man in the telling. The
Most Christian King is signing a treaty that is honourable to Florence.
But you owe it to one of your citizens, who spoke a word worthy of the
ancient Romans--you owe it to Piero Capponi!"

Immediately there was a roar of voices. "Capponi! Capponi! What said
our Piero?" "Ah! he wouldn't stand being sent from Herod to Pilate!"
"We knew Piero!" "_Orsu_! Tell us, what did he say?"

When the roar of insistance had subsided a little, Tito began again--

"The Most Christian King demanded a little too much--was obstinate--said
at last, `I shall order my trumpets to sound.' Then, Florentine
citizens! your Piero Capponi, speaking with the voice of a free city,
said, `If you sound your trumpets, we will ring our bells!' He snatched
the copy of the dishonouring conditions from the hands of the secretary,
tore it in pieces, and turned to leave the royal presence."

Again there were loud shouts--and again impatient demands for more.

"Then, Florentines, the high majesty of France felt, perhaps for the
first time, all the majesty of a free city. And the Most Christian King
himself hastened from his place to call Piero Capponi back. The great
spirit of your Florentine city did its work by a great word, without
need of the great actions that lay ready behind it. And the King has
consented to sign the treaty, which preserves the honour, as well as the
s