hich of the Orsini slew this poor boy?--a foul deed; his
family, too, our clients!"

"Who? yon lad?" replied the horseman, lifting the helmet from his
head, and wiping his heated brow; "say you so! how came he, then, with
Martino's rascals? I fear me the mistake hath cost him dear. I could but
suppose him of the Orsini rabble, and so--and so--"

"You slew him!" cried Rienzi, in a voice of thunder, starting from
the ground. "Justice! then, my Lord Stephen, justice! you promised me
justice, and I will have it!"

"My poor youth," said the old man, compassionately, "you should have had
justice against the Orsini; but see you not this has been an error? I
do not wonder you are too grieved to listen to reason now. We must make
this up to you."

"And let this pay for masses for the boy's soul; I grieve me much for
the accident," said the younger Colonna, flinging down a purse of gold.
"Ay, see us at the palace next week, young Cola--next week. My father,
we had best return towards the boat; its safeguard may require us yet."

"Right, Gianni; stay, some two of you, and see to the poor lad's
corpse;--a grievous accident! how could it chance?"

The company passed back the way they came, two of the common soldiers
alone remaining, except the boy Adrian, who lingered behind a few
moments, striving to console Rienzi, who, as one bereft of sense,
remained motionless, gazing on the proud array as it swept along, and
muttering to himself, "Justice, justice! I will have it yet."

The loud voice of the elder Colonna summoned Adrian, reluctantly
and weeping, away. "Let me be your brother," said the gallant boy,
affectionately pressing the scholar's hand to his heart; "I want a
brother like you."

Rienzi made no reply; he did not heed or hear him--dark and stern
thoughts, thoughts in which were the germ of a mighty revolution, were
at his heart. He woke from them with a start, as the soldiers were now
arranging their bucklers so as to make a kind of bier for the corpse,
and then burst into tears as he fiercely motioned them away, and clasped
the clay to his breast till he was literally soaked with the oozing
blood.

The poor child's garland had not dropped from his arm even when he fell,
and, entangled by his dress, it still clung around him. It was a sight
that recalled to Cola all the gentleness, the kind heart, and winning
graces of his only brother--his only friend! It was a sight that
seemed to make yet more inhuman the unt