The Marquis stared at him, slightly amused.
"Have you taken statistics of the lady's followers," he asked; "Are you
one of them yourself?"
Silvano raised his eyes,--clear dark eyes, deep-set and steady in their
glance.
"Were I so, I should not be here;" he replied--"But I know how she
speaks; I know what she does! and from a purely political point of view
I think it unwise to ignore her."
"What is this anonymous communication you speak of?" asked the Premier,
after a pause.
"Oh, it is brief enough," answered Silvano unfolding a paper, and he
read aloud:
"To the Marquis de Lutera, Premier.
"Satisfy yourself that those who meet on Saturday night where Lotys
speaks, have already decided on your downfall!"
"Oracular!" said the Marquis carelessly;--"To decide is one thing--to
fulfil the decision is another! Lotys, whoever she may be, can preach
to her heart's content, for all I care! I am rather surprised, Silvano,
that a man of your penetration and intelligence should attach any
importance to revolutionary meetings, which are always going on more or
less in every city under the sun. Why, it was but the other day, the
police were sent to disperse a crowd which had gathered round the
fanatic, Sergius Thord; only the people had sufficient sense to
disperse themselves. A street-preacher or woman ranter is like a cheap-
jack or a dispenser of quack medicines;--the mob gathers to such
persons out of curiosity, not conviction.
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