hen the two parted, it was with the
understanding that they were soon to see each other again at the
marchioness's masquerade.

CHAPTER XIII.

A SUDDEN FLIGHT.

Blanka sat in her room, with closed doors, preparing her costume for the
masked ball. Affairs in the world outside had moved rapidly during the
past few days. In the feverish excitement of that revolutionary period,
mob violence was threatening to gain the upper hand. Shouts of
boisterous merriment reached the princess from the street. From the
adjoining wing of the palace, too, other sounds, almost equally
boisterous, fell on her ear at intervals. The fair Cyrene was
entertaining a company of congenial spirits.

Gradually the noise in the street grew louder, until it seemed as if a
cage of wild animals had been let loose before the Cagliari palace.
Suddenly, as Blanka stood before her fire, all her senses alert, she saw
the glowing phoenix rise from its position, and her fair neighbour
stood in the opening.

"Put out your fire, and let me in," bade the marchioness. "I have
emptied my extinguisher. Don't you hear the mob storming my palace
gates? The soldiery who were summoned to restore order have made common
cause with the rioters, and we are in frightful peril. Quick! Out with
your fire, and let me and my guests through. We can make our escape by
your rear door, and so gain the riverside in safety."

Blanka could not refuse this appeal. She opened the way for the
marchioness and her motley company to pass out; then she herself, first
closing the secret passage between the two wings of the palace, followed
the other fugitives and, gaining the street by a wide detour, engaged a
cab to take her to the Vatican.

"His Holiness receives no one this afternoon," was the announcement made
to her at the door.

Almost in despair, and bewildered by the sudden turn of events which had
thus cast her homeless on the streets, the princess returned to her
carriage.

"Do you know where Signor Scalcagnato lives?" she asked the driver.

"Scalcagnato the shoemaker, the champion of the people? To be sure I do:
in the Piazza di Colosseo. But if the lady wishes to buy shoes of him
she should not address him as _Signor_ Scalcagnato."

"Why not?"

"Because he will ask half as much more for them than if he were called
plain _Citizen_ Scalcagnato."

After this gratuitous bit of information the coachman whipped up his
horse and rattled away toward the Colosseum