and the waste which
always accompanies them, made a fearful void in it. What had attracted
Renzo's attention was but the sudden exacerbation of a chronic disease.

Mingling with the hurrying mob, Renzo soon discovered that they had been
engaged in sacking a bakery, and were filled with fury to find large
quantities of flour, the existence of which the authorities had denied.
"The superintendent! The tyrant! We'll have him, dead or alive!"

Renzo found himself borne along in the thickest of the throng to the
house of the superintendent, where a tremendous crowd was endeavouring
to break in the doors. The tumult being allayed by the arrival of
Ferrer, the chancellor, a popular favourite, Renzo became involved in
conversation with some of the rioters. He asked to be directed to an inn
where he could pass the night.

"I know an inn that will suit you," said one who had listened to all the
speeches without himself saying a word. "The landlord is a friend of
mine, a very worthy man."

So saying, he took Renzo off to an inn at some little distance, taking
pains to ascertain who he was and whence he came. Arrived at the inn,
the new companions shared a bottle of wine which, in Renzo's excited
condition, soon mounted to his head. Another bottle was called for; and
the landlord, being asked if he had a bed, produced pen, ink, and paper,
and demanded his name, surname and country.

"What has all this to do with my bed?"

"I do my duty. We are obliged to report everyone that sleeps in the
house."

"Oh, so I'm to tell my business, am I? This is something new. Supposing
I had come to Milan to confess, I should go to a Capuchin father, not to
an innkeeper."

"Well, if you won't, you won't!" said the landlord, with a glance at
Renzo's companion. "I've done my duty."

So saying, he withdrew, and shortly afterwards the new-found friend
insisted on taking his departure. At daybreak Renzo was awakened by a
shake and a voice calling, "Lorenzo Tramaglino."

"Eh, what does this mean? What do you want? Who told you my name?" said
Renzo, starting up, amazed to find three men, two of them fully armed,
standing at his bedside.

"You must come with us. The high sheriff wants to have some words with
you."

Renzo now found himself being led through the streets, that were still
filled with a considerable number of last night's rioters, by no means
yet pacified. When they had gone a little way some of the crowd,
noticing them, began t