'You stchewpids!' he began. 'There is nothing to fuss for. Of course,
your eyes will smart and be red to-morrow. You will look as if you and
your wives had drunk too much, but in a little while you will see again
as well as before. I tell you this, and I--I am Pirolo. Victor Pirolo!'

The crowd with one accord shuddered, for many legends attach to Victor
Pirolo of Foggia, deep in the secrets of God.

'Pirolo?' An unsteady voice lifted itself. 'Then tell us was there
anything except light in those lights of yours just now?'

The question was repeated from every corner of the darkness.

Pirolo laughed.

'No!' he thundered. (Why have small men such large voices?) 'I give you
my word and the Board's word that there was nothing except light--just
light! You stchewpids! Your birth-rate is too low already as it is. Some
day I must invent something to send it up, but send it down--never!'

'Is that true?--We thought--somebody said--'

One could feel the tension relax all round.

'You too big fools,' Pirolo cried. 'You could have sent us a call and we
would have told you.'

'Send you a call!' a deep voice shouted. 'I wish you had been at our end
of the wire.'