ortal poison, had rendered him
invulnerable. He bent over her with great gentleness.

"Fulvia, this is madness," he said. "A moment's thought must show you
what passions are here at work. Can you not rise above such fears? No
one can judge between us but ourselves."

"Ah, but you do not know--you will not understand. Your life may be in
danger!" she cried.

"I have been told that before," he said contemptuously. "It is a common
trick of the political game."

"This is no trick," she exclaimed. "I was made to see--to
understand--and I swear to you that the danger is real."

"And what if it were? Is the Church to have all the martyrs?" said he
gaily. "Come, Fulvia, shake off such fancies. My life is as safe as
yours. At worst there may be a little hissing to be faced. That is easy
enough compared to facing one's own doubts. And I have no doubts
now--that is all past, thank heaven! I see the road straight before
me--as straight as when you showed it to me once before, years ago, in
the inn-parlour at Peschiera. You pointed the way to it then; surely you
would not hold me back from it now?"

He took her in his arms and kissed her lips to silence.

"When we meet tomorrow," he said, releasing her, "It will be as teacher
and pupil, you in your doctor's gown and I a learner at your feet. Put
your old faith in me into your argument, and we shall have all Pianura
converted."

He hastened away through the dim gardens, carrying a boy's heart in his
breast.

4.10.

The University of Pianura was lodged in the ancient Signoria or Town
Hall of the free city; and here, on the afternoon of the Duke's
birthday, the civic dignitaries and the leading men of the learned
professions had assembled to see the doctorate conferred on the
Signorina Fulvia Vivaldi and on several less conspicuous candidates of
the other sex.

The city was again in gala dress. Early that morning the new
constitution had been proclaimed, with much firing of cannon and display
of official fireworks; but even these great news, and their attendant
manifestations, had failed to enliven the populace, who, instead of
filling the streets with their usual stir, hung massed at certain
points, as though curiously waiting on events. There are few sights more
ominous than that of a crowd thus observing itself, watching in
inconscient suspense for the unknown crisis which its own passions have
engendered.

It was known that his Highness, after the public banquet