multitude, to fire all those men to break out and carry everything
before them. He laughed audibly at himself. Sant' Ilario looked at his
son with some curiosity.

"What amuses you?" he asked.

"A dream," answered Orsino, still smiling. "Who knows?" he exclaimed
after a pause. "What would happen, if at the right moment the right man
could stir such a crowd as this?"

"Strange things," replied Sant' Ilario gravely. "A crowd is a terrible
weapon."

"Then my dream was not so foolish after all. One might make history
to-day."

Sant' Ilario made a gesture expressive of indifference.

"What is history?" he asked. "A comedy in which the actors have no
written parts, but improvise their speeches and actions as best they
can. That is the reason why history is so dull and so full of mistakes."

"And of surprises," suggested Orsino.

"The surprises in history are always disagreeable, my boy," answered
Sant' Ilario.

Orsino felt the coldness in the answer and felt even more his father's
readiness to damp any expression of enthusiasm. Of late he had
encountered this chilling indifference at almost every turn, whenever he