ng himself whether he should not give up this life
of working for people he hated and launch into that larger work of
political agitation, for which he fancied himself so well fitted. He
looked forward into an imaginary future, and saw himself declaiming in
the Chambers against all that existed, rousing the passions of a
multitude to acts of destruction--of justice, as he called it in his
thoughts--and leading a vast army of angry men up the steps of the
Capitol to proclaim himself the champion of the rights of man against
the rights of kings. His eyelids contracted and the concentrated light
of his eyes was reduced to two tiny bright specks in the midst of the
pupils; his nervous hand went out and the fingers clutched the jaws of
the iron vice beside him as he would have wished to grapple with the
jaws of the beast oppression, which in his dreams seemed ever tormenting
the poor world in which he lived.

There was something lacking in his face, even in that moment of secret
rage as he sat alone in his workroom before the lamp. There was the
frenzy of the fanatic, the exaltation of the dreamer, clearly expressed
upon his features, but there was something wanting. There was everything
there except the force to accomplish, the initiative which oversteps the
bank of words, threats, and angry thoughts, and plunges boldly into the
stream, ready to sacrifice itself to lead others. The look of power, of
stern determination, which is never absent from the faces of men who
change their times, was not visible in the thin dark countenance of the
silver-chiseller. Marzio was destined never to rise above the common
howling mob which he aspired to lead.

This fact asserted itself outwardly as he sat there. After a few minutes
the features relaxed, a smile that was almost weak--the smile that shows
that a man lacks absolute confidence--passed quickly over his face, the
light in his eyes went out, and he rose from his stool with a short,
dissatisfied sigh, which was repeated once or twice as he put away his
work and arranged his tools. He made the rounds of the workshop, looked
to the fastenings of the windows, lighted a taper, and then extinguished
the lamp. He threw a loose overcoat over his shoulders without passing
his arms through the sleeves, and went out into the street. Glancing up
at the windows of his house opposite, he saw that the lights were
burning brightly, and he guessed that his wife and daughter were waiting
for him b