"Well, and what do _you_ say we ought to do?" he said.

A flash came from the man's eyes, and he said in a thick voice:

"Remove the one man in Rome whose hand crushes the nation."

"The Prime Minister?"

"Yes."

There was silence.

"You expect me to do that?"

"No! I will do it for you.... Why not? If violence is wrong, it is right
to resist violence."

David Rossi returned to his seat at the desk, touched the letter of
introduction, and said:

"That is the great act referred to in this letter from London?"

"Yes."

"Why do you come to me?" he said.

"Because you can help me to accomplish this act. You are a Member of
Parliament, and can give me cards to the Chamber. You can show me the
way to the Prime Minister's room in Monte Citorio, and tell me the
moment when he is to be found alone."

"I do not deny that the Prime Minister deserves death."

"A thousand deaths, sir, and everybody would hail them with delight."

"I do not deny that his death would be a relief to the people."

"On the day he dies, sir, the people will live."

"Or that crimes--great crimes--have been the means of bringing about
great reforms."

"You are right, sir--but it would be no crime."

The stranger's face flushed up, his eyes seemed to burn, and he leaned
over to the desk and took up the dagger.

"See! Give me this! It's exactly what I want. I'll put it in a bouquet
of flowers, and pretend to offer them. Only a way to do it, sir! Say the
word--may I take it?"

"But the man who assumes such a mission," said David Rossi, "must know
himself free from every thought of personal vengeance."

The dagger trembled in the stranger's hand.

"He must be prepared to realise the futility of what he has done--to
know that even when he succeeds he only changes the persons, not the
things; the actors, not the parts."

The man stood like one who had been stunned, with his mouth partly open,
and balancing the dagger on one hand.

"More than that," said David Rossi; "he must be prepared to be told by
every true friend of freedom that the man who uses force is not worthy
of liberty--that the conflict of intellects alone is human, and to fight
otherwise is to be on the level of the brute."

The man threw the dagger back on the desk and laughed.

"I knew you talked like that to the people--statesmen do
sometimes--that's all right--it's pretty, and it keeps the people
quiet--but _we_...."

David Rossi rose with a sovereign dignit