"You would say that their attitude is threatening?"

"Distinctly threatening, your Excellency."

"Let your delegates give the legal warning and say that the gathering of

great mobs at this hour will be regarded as open rebellion. Allow three

minutes' grace for the sake of the women and children, and then ... let

the military do their duty."

"Quite so, your Excellency."

"After that you may carry out the instructions I gave you yesterday."

"Certainly, your Excellency."

"Keep in touch with all the leaders. Some of them will find that the air

of Rome is a little dangerous to their health to-night, and may wish to

fly to Switzerland or England, where it would be impossible to follow

them."

Roma heard behind her the thin cackle as of a hen over her nest, which

always came when Angelelli laughed.

"Their meeting itself was illegal, and our license has been abused."

"Grossly abused, your Excellency."

"The action of the Government was too conciliatory, and has rendered

them audacious, but the new law is clear in prohibiting the carrying of

seditious flags and emblems."

"We'll deal with them according to Articles 134 and 252 of the Penal

Code, your Excellency."

"You can go. But come back immediately if anything happens. I must

remain here for the present, and in case of riot I may have to send you

to the King."

Angelelli's thin voice fell to a whisper of awe at the mention of

Majesty, and after a moment he bowed and backed out of the room.

Roma did not turn round, and the Minister, who had touched the bell and

called for pen and paper, spoke to her from behind.

"I daresay you thought I was hard and inhuman at the Palazzo Braschi

yesterday, but I was really very merciful. In letting you see the

preparations to enclose your friend as in a net, I merely wished you to

warn him to fly from the country. He has not done so, and now he must

take the consequences."

Felice brought the writing materials, and the Baron sat down at the

table. There was a long silence in which nothing could be heard but the

scratching of the Minister's pen, the snoring of the poodle, and the

deadened sound through the wall of the Countess's testy voice scolding

Natalina.

Roma stepped into the boudoir. The room was dark, and from its unlit

windows she could see more plainly into the streets. Masses of shadow

lay around, but the untrodden steps were white with thin snow, and the

piazza were alive with black figures which moved on the damp ground like

worms on an upturned sod.




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