lad of work, sir."

"Yes, I dare say, but I want an experienced grass-cutter. No, I haven't
got any coppers to-day."

A very ragged beggar had slouched up to them, with a doleful, monotonous
whine.

"Have pity on a poor blind man, in the name of the Blessed Virgin------
Get out of this place at once; there's a flying squadron coming
along----Most Holy Queen of Heaven, Maiden undefiled--It's you they're
after, Rivarez; they'll be here in two minutes---- And so may the saints
reward you---- You'll have to make a dash for it; there are spies at all
the corners. It's no use trying to slip away without being seen."

Marcone slipped the reins into the Gadfly's hand.

"Make haste! Ride out to the bridge and let the horse go; you can hide
in the ravine. We're all armed; we can keep them back for ten minutes."

"No. I won't have you fellows taken. Stand together, all of you, and
fire after me in order. Move up towards our horses; there they are,
tethered by the palace steps; and have your knives ready. We retreat
fighting, and when I throw my cap down, cut the halters and jump every
man on the nearest horse. We may all reach the wood that way."

They had spoken in so quiet an undertone that even the nearest
bystanders had not supposed their conversation to refer to anything
more dangerous than grass-cutting. Marcone, leading his own mare by the
bridle, walked towards the tethered horses, the Gadfly slouching along
beside him, and the beggar following them with an outstretched hand and
a persistent whine. Michele came up whistling; the beggar had warned him
in passing, and he quietly handed on the news to three countrymen who
were eating raw onions under a tree. They immediately rose and followed
him; and before anyone's notice had been attracted to them, the whole
seven were standing together by the steps of the palace, each man with
one hand on the hidden pistol, and the tethered horses within easy
reach.

"Don't betray yourselves till I move," the Gadfly said softly and
clearly. "They may not recognize us. When I fire, then begin in order.
Don't fire at the men; lame their horses--then they can't follow us.
Three of you fire, while the other three reload. If anyone comes between
you and our horses, kill him. I take the roan. When I throw down my cap,
each man for himself; don't stop for anything."

"Here they come," said Michele; and the Gadfly turned round, with an air
of naive and stupid wonder, as the people sudde