ity pervades large bodies, and the
subtle fluid certainly is found everywhere. But among people of the
south, under the burning sun which scorches their brains, the Italians,
and especially the Neapolitans, in their public assemblies, attain a
degree of fanaticism and exaltation, of which the people of the north
have no idea. The eruptions of their own Vesuvius are the only things to
which the passions of their populace can be compared.

When the Count and his escort left the court-room, the people literally
rushed upon them. A thousand hands, not half so seemly as those which
already had clasped his own, were extended towards his. These strong and
sturdy hands seemed to promise him protection in case it should be
needful for him at any future time to seek it.

From this crowd of men with sternly marked features, shaded by hats of
gray felt, there fell on the Count's ear such words as, "_Two hands
pledged in friendship are but one!_" Venta of Castel la Marc.

"_A dagger for ten enemies!_" Venta of Capua.

"_Our right, silence, or death!_" Venta of Annunziata.

"_Eyes to watch, and a hand to strike!_" Venta of Pompeia.

To which the Count replied, by the word _Speranza_, accompanied by a
clasp of the hand and a significative glance.

"My friends," said a penetrating voice, "for heaven's sake give him air.
The poor man has need of air. We know you love him. He is the friend of
the people of Naples, all know, but he should not on that account be
stifled. By the miracle of San Januarius restore him to me, restore my
master to me, you may have him soon, but now he needs the care of old
Giacomo."

Giacomo took the Count's arm, and sought to remove him from the crowd
which surrounded him. The Count paid no attention to the old intendant.
For a time, he strove almost to cast him off, and stood looking
anxiously at a person he saw in the crowd, and whom like a swimmer he
sought to approach. This person was his friend Taddeo Rovero. The young
man sought in vain to approach the Count. The tide of living beings
seconded their wishes, and at last they rushed into the arms of each
other, forgetting, while thus enlocked, the world, their secret
thoughts, the past, and the present, and mingling together the tears of
friendship.

"Air, day, sunlight, motion, life, life itself I have found. They woke
up our existence; a dungeon is death--"

Again he threw himself into the arms of Taddeo, with an expression of
tenderness and h