the seats reserved for the Vestal virgins, resembling, as they
glided along, some restless shades following the flickering glare
of so many ignes-fatui. All at once his ear caught a sound
resembling that of a stone rolling down the staircase opposite the
one by which he had himself ascended. There was nothing remarkable
in the circumstance of a fragment of granite giving way and falling
heavily below; but it seemed to him that the substance that fell
gave way beneath the pressure of a foot, and also that some one,
who endeavored as much as possible to prevent his footsteps from
being heard, was approaching the spot where he sat. Conjecture soon
became certainty, for the figure of a man was distinctly visible to
Franz, gradually emerging from the staircase opposite, upon which
the moon was at that moment pouring a full tide of silvery
brightness.
The stranger thus presenting himself was probably a person who,
like Franz, preferred the enjoyment of solitude and his own
thoughts to the frivolous gabble of the guides. And his appearance
had nothing extraordinary in it; but the hesitation with which he
proceeded, stopping and listening with anxious attention at every
step he took, convinced Franz that he expected the arrival of some
person. By a sort of instinctive impulse, Franz withdrew as much as
possible behind his pillar. About ten feet from the spot where he
and the stranger were, the roof had given way, leaving a large
round opening, through which might be seen the blue vault of
heaven, thickly studded with stars. Around this opening, which had,
possibly, for ages permitted a free entrance to the brilliant
moonbeams that now illumined the vast pile, grew a quantity of
creeping plants, whose delicate green branches stood out in bold
relief against the clear azure of the firmament, while large masses
of thick, strong fibrous shoots forced their way through the chasm,
and hung floating to and fro, like so many waving strings. The
person whose mysterious arrival had attracted the attention ofperson whose mysterious arrival had attracted the attention of
Franz stood in a kind of half-light, that rendered it impossible to
distinguish his features, although his dress was easily made out.
He wore a large brown mantle, one fold of which, thrown over his
left shoulder, served likewise to mask the lower part of his
countenance, while the upper part was completely hidden by his
broad-brimmed hat. The lower part of his dress was more distinctly
visible by the bright rays of the moon, which, entering through the
broken ceiling, shed their refulgent beams on feet cased in
elegantly made boots of polished leather, over which descended
fashionably cut trousers of black cloth.
From the imperfect means Franz had of judging, he could only
come to one conclusion, — that the person whom he was thus watching
certainly belonged to no inferior station of life. Some few minutes
had elapsed, and the stranger began to show manifest signs of
impatience, when a slight noise was heard outside the aperture in
the roof, and almost immediately a dark shadow seemed to obstruct
the flood of light that had entered it, and the figure of a man was
clearly seen gazing with eager scrutiny on the immense space
beneath him; then, as his eye caught sight of him in the mantle, he
grasped a floating mass of thickly matted boughs, and glided down
by their help to within three or four feet of the ground, and then
leaped lightly on his feet. The man who had performed this daring
act with so much indifference wore the Transtevere costume. "I beg
your excellency's pardon for keeping you waiting," said the man, in
the Roman dialect, "but I don't think I'm many minutes after my
time, ten o'clock his just struck on the Lateran."
"Say not a word about being late," replied the stranger in
purest Tuscan; "'tis I who am too soon. But even if you had caused
me to wait a little while, I should have felt quite sure that the
delay was not occasioned by any fault of yours."
"Your excellency is perfectly right in so thinking," said the"Your excellency is perfectly right in so thinking," said the
man; "I came here direct from the Castle of St. Angelo, and I had
an immense deal of trouble before I could get a chance to speak to
Beppo."
"And who is Beppo?"
"Oh, Beppo is employed in the prison, and I give him so much a
year to let me know what is going on within his holiness's
castle."
"Indeed! You are a provident person, I see."
"Why, you see, no one knows what may happen. Perhaps some of
these days I may be entrapped, like poor Peppino and may be very
glad to have some little nibbling mouse to gnaw the meshes of my
net, and so help me out of prison."
"Briefly, what did you glean?"
"That two executions of considerable interest will take place
the day after to-morrow at two o'clock, as is customary at Rome at
the commencement of all great festivals. One of the culprits will
be mazzolato;* he is an atrocious villain, who murdered the priest
who brought him up, and deserves not the smallest pity. The other
sufferer is sentenced to be decapitato;** and he, your excellency,
is poor Peppino."
(* Knocked on the head. ** Beheaded.)
"The fact is, that you have inspired not only the pontifical
government, but also the neighboring states, with such extreme
fear, that they are glad of all opportunity of making an
example."
"But Peppino did not even belong to my band: he was merely a
poor shepherd, whose only crime consisted in furnishing us with
provisions."
"Which makes him your accomplice to all intents and purposes.
But mark the distinction with which he is treated; instead of being
knocked on the head as you would be if once they caught hold of
you, he is simply sentenced to be guillotined, by which means, too,
the amusements of the day are diversified, and there is a spectacle
to please every spectator."
"Without reckoning the wholly unexpected one I am preparing to
surprise them with."
"My good friend," said the man in the cloak, "excuse me for
saying that you seem to me precisely in the mood to commit some
wild or extravagant act."