altercation was going on between them, a great push of men emerged from
one of the close courts some dozen paces ahead of the horse, bearing
forth a single young officer in their midst.

"Signore, would you like to be the froth of a boiling of that sort?" The
vetturino seized the image at once to strike home his instance of the
danger of outraging the will of the people.

Our traveller immediately unlocked a case that lay on the seat in front
of him, and drew out a steel scabbard, from which he plucked the sword,
and straightway leaped to the ground. The officer's cigar had been
dashed from his mouth: he stood at bay, sword in hand, meeting a rush
with a desperate stroke. The assistance of a second sword got him clear
of the fray. Both hastened forward as the crush melted with the hiss of
a withdrawing wave. They interchanged exclamations:
"Is it you, Jenna!"

"In the devil's name, Pierson, have you come to keep your appointment in
mid-winter?"

"Come on: I'll stick beside you."

"On, then!"

They glanced behind them, heeding little the tail of ruffians whom they
had silenced.

"We shall have plenty of fighting soon, so we'll smoke a cordial cigar
together," said Lieutenant Jenna, and at once struck a light and blazed
defiance to Milan afresh--an example that was necessarily followed by his