attempt at dramatic impressiveness, the Chief
began to speak. He touched upon the condition of Italy, and the new lilt
animating her young men and women. "I have heard many good men jeer,"
he said, "at our taking women to our counsel, accepting their help, and
putting a great stake upon their devotion. You have read history, and
you know what women can accomplish. They may be trained, equally as we
are, to venerate the abstract idea of country, and be a sacrifice to it.
Without their aid, and the fire of a fresh life being kindled in their
bosoms, no country that has lain like ours in the death-trance can
revive. In the death-trance, I say, for Italy does not die!"

"True," said other voices.

"We have this belief in the eternal life of our country, and the belief
is the life itself. But let no strong man among us despise the help of
women. I have seen our cause lie desperate, and those who despaired
of it were not women. Women kept the flame alive. They worship in the
temple of the cause."

Ammiani's eyes dwelt fervidly upon the signorina. Her look, which was
fastened upon the Chief, expressed a mind that listened to strange
matter concerning her very little. But when the plans for the rising
of the Bergamascs and Brescians, the Venetians, the Bolognese, the
Milanese, all the principal Northern cities, were recited, with a
practical emphasis thrown upon numbers, upon the readiness of the
organized bands, the dispositions of the leaders, and the amount of
resistance to be expected at the various points indicated for the
outbreak, her hands disjoined, and she stretched her fingers to the
grass, supporting herself so, while her extended chin and animated
features told how eagerly her spirit drank at positive springs, and
thirsted for assurance of the coming storm.

"It is decided that Milan gives the signal," said the Chief; and a
light, like the reflection of a beacon-fire upon the night, flashed over
her.

He was pursuing, when Ugo Corte smote the air with his nervous fingers,
crying out passionately, "Bunglers! are we again to wait for them, and
hear that fifteen patriots have stabbed a Croat corporal, and wrestled
hotly with a lieutenant of the guard? I say they are bunglers. They
never mean the thing. Fifteen! There were just three Milanese among the
last lot--the pick of the city; and the rest were made up of Trentini,
and our lads from Bergamo and Brescia; and the order from the Council
was, 'Go and do the b